


Uni (Larry Stylinson

by larry_love23



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bottom Harry, College romance, Community: lgbtfest, Cutting, Damaged Louis, Dark, Dark Liam, Dark Liam Payne, Depression, Eating Disorder, Hero Harry, Homophobia, M/M, Narry bromance, Punk, Purging, Recovery, Top Louis, Trauma, University, college love story, larry stylinson - Freeform, lilo, mental health recovery, trauma recover, zouis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:23:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 39,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larry_love23/pseuds/larry_love23
Summary: Harry just moved into his dorm as a freshman at New York University. As he gets settled, he meets Louis, a disgruntled junior who lives across the hall, and quickly develops a crush. Can Harry help Louis get over his traumatic past and start a healthy relationship? Or will their flirtatious energy crash and burn as quickly as it started?Trigger warnings: self harm, eating disorders, sexual/emotional abuse, adult themes.Highest ranking:#36 in #CollegeLoveStory#45 in #CollegeStories#102 in #Recovery#181 in #mentalhealth





	1. Move In Day

Harry's POV

Fuck, people are unfriendly here, I thought. I was sitting on my bed thinking about how someone had flipped me off as I crossed the street, and how the person next to me in the elevator didn't respond when I said hello. 

It was my first time ever in New York and I was starting to wonder if I had made the right decision. NYU's Music and Performing Arts school was one of the most prestigious in the world, and when I got in, I automatically accepted. But maybe reputation wasn't all there was to it. So far, I wasn't having the best time in "the best city in the world." 

I got up and grabbed a packet of crisps to snack on while I waited for my roommate, Niall to arrive. He had texted me that he was coming at 5pm and I assumed he would want to get tea together, so I didn't want to eat anything just yet. But now it was 5:30 and I was really getting hungry. 

I hopped back onto my bed and picked up my guitar, strumming a few strings lazily as I looked at myself in the mirror. I'm in fucking New York, I thought to myself, smiling a little. 

A knock at the door quickly interrupted my daydream of performing in Madison Square Garden, and I jumped up off the bed, tripping and nearly smashing my guitar. Fuck, Harold, I thought. You're going to make a blood great impression if you fall all over yourself like this. 

"Just a minute," I called, setting down the guitar. I ran to the door and opened it slowly, to find a brunette of medium height standing in front of me. I was a little confused because he had blonde hair in all his photos, but they were rather dated, so I guess he dyed it. 

Niall's eyes were bluer than they had been in the photo too, and his Irish accent was more profound than I had expected. But to be honest, it was just nice to have someone from Europe here with me--even if they weren't from England. I had a feeling we would hit it off just fine. 

"Hey, Niall," I said, giving him a hug. Maybe New York wasn't the most friendly place, but I sure wasn't going to let it ruin my manners. 

"'Sup mate," Niall replied, patting me on the back. "It's nice to finally meet you. What's the room look like?"

My face lit up as I led Niall inside. "It's actually quite big," I said. It really was -- way bigger than I expected at least. The room had two dressers and two twin beds, with a large span of space in between the beds. There was a closet next to the door, and a sink next to the closet. 

"There's a sink, but no loo?" Niall said, laughing. "That's odd." 

I laughed. "Yeah, I asked someone about that. They said it's so you can brush your teeth without having to walk to the bathroom. The bathroom's down the hall--it's communal. Hope you brought shower shoes," I said. Damn, Harry, I thought, after finishing my explanation. Slow down. You seem way too excited. 

But despite my fear, Niall didn't seem to mind. In fact, it seemed like he talked a lot too. "Well that's proper weird mate. I thought we'd have a bathroom," he said. "And fuck, I don't have shower shoes. Who the hell wheres shoes in the shower?"

I laughed. "You can borrow mine," I said. "Trust me, you'll need them." 

"Alright, well I'm going to go down to the car. My parents are waiting with my stuff. We had to buy it all at Walmart. I guess I'm a true American now," Niall said. 

"I'll come help," I said, a little too quickly. I really had to tone it down on the eagerness....

"Alright, sure," Niall said. And we headed downstairs together.


	2. Another Shit Year

Louis' Point of View

 

My first thought when I walked into my new dorm was: Fuck. They had put me with the fucking freshers. Damn it. I didn't even have to look at the building name to know that my dorm was filled to the brim with first-year students--their overly-excited faces and overly chatty voices said it all. 

I could just imagine all of the craziness that was to follow. The late nights, the never-ending dorm parties, the freshman constantly asking me to buy them alcohol or help them find a fake. Here in the states, the legal drinking age is 21, so none of the underclassmen are old enough to go to bars or even buy drinks. All it did was really hype up the whole drinking thing, if you ask me. But even more importantly, it created a lot of noise and a lot of bother for people like me who just want to stay inside and not deal with others. 

I wasn't supposed to end up here in the freshman dorms. That was never the plan. I'm a junior for Christ's sake. I deserve to live in upperclassmen housing or a suite. But of course, that didn't work out for me. It never does. The kids in my housing group had ditched me at the last second to live off campus, and by the time I chose a room alone, there was nothing left. 

Oh well. Nothing like shit luck to start off the semester. Even if I did have semi- decent housing, free of the pesty 18 year old wannabes, I still wouldn't be happy. I hated going to NYU. I hated the city, I hated the people, and I hated my professors. It was all really just a big shit show--the Music and Performing Arts school was nothing like I expected it to be. And I wanted out, but I tried to transfer last semester and they wouldn't accept my credits. So here I stay. 

As I take the stairs to the third floor -- the elevator was being used by parents who were hauling their kids stuff -- I saw two brunettes walk down the hall. One had long, curly hair and the other a short cut. Both were cute, but curly was cuter. Just they wait, I thought. Soon they'll see how it really is here. 

I walked over to room 302 and turned the key, opening it to find a tiny grey room with one window. Perfect. Depressing and solitary. Just how I like it. I plopped my duffel bag on the bed and took out a few of my necessities. Jeans, shirts, underwear, toiletries. I had to go to Target or Walmart to buy the rest-- like the bedspread and a rug and a lamp. 

I grabbed my wallet and began heading out--and that's when I heard it. Curly and straight hair were in the hallway, talking, and they had British and Irish accents.....


	3. Meeting

Harry's POV 

Dear god, I wondered to myself. How hammered had Niall and I gotten last night? It was 9am and I could see the light coming in through the blinds that we had forgotten to close. I looked over at Niall, who was half falling off the bed, but somehow fast asleep. 

Surprisingly, we had gotten to bed quite early. Americans start drinking at 10pm and usually go home by 2am the latest. Niall had a brought a bunch of liquor from home with him, so we drank that and then went out to a "frat party," as they like to call them here. It was mostly just an apartment packed to the brim with people. It was smelly and sweaty and the music was shitty and way too loud--but Niall and I were way too plastered to care. 

At some point, cops showed up and told us to leave because of "underaged drinking" and we all ran for the door. But Niall and I ended up getting lost the second we went outside and spent nearly an hour drunkenly trying to use Google Maps to get us home. 

"Fuck mate, we are so doneeee," I remembered Niall saying. 

"Yeah, we are bloody lost in New York City," I said, running down the street and doing a karate kick like I was in some sort of movie scene. 

"No, no," Niall said. "I can kick higher... and better. I'm the Karate kid," he said, doing a half kick and nearly splitting his skinny jeans. 

"Ay, Niall. Keep your pants on. I don't like you like that," I said, doubled over laughing. 

It had been a great night, but now, we were paying the consequences. My head throbbed as I set up and my stomach lurched at just the thought of eating something. I wanted to go back to sleep, but I was used to waking up early every single day over the summer when I worked at the bakery, so I couldn't fall back asleep. I left Niall to rest and headed to the bathroom with my shower shoes and shower caddy. 

My shoes squeaked loudly on the dark green carpet in the hallway. I felt so awkward being naked out in the open. I mean, I had my towel on, but still. My whole torso was exposed. And it wasn't a short walk, either. 

Once I made it down the hallway, I opened the door to the bathroom. I nearly jumped when I realized that someone else was inside. I didn't think anyone else would be up at 9am on a Saturday.

"Ah," I screamed out loud. The person, who was standing at the sink washing their face, looked up at me with a smirk. I was so freaked I nearly ran out of the bathroom and went to my room. 

But then we locked eyes and I started to really take in this guy standing before him. His piercing blue eyes, his tousled brown hair, his chiseled jaw. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers and I couldn't help but notice his muscular legs and broad chest. Oh my god. He's so hot..... I thought. 

"I'm sorry!" I shouted, turning to the door to leave. I was panicking--panicking hard. 

"What? Why?" the man asked with a British accent. 

"Oh my -- you're British?" I asked, spinning around and walking towards him. There was another British guy at NYU? I was suddenly so excited...

The guy laughed, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, I'm from Donny. The name's Louis," he replied coolly, smoothing back his hair. "Listen, I think you need to relax, mate. I know you're a fresher and all, but you'll get used to the public shower."

I looked down and noticed how tightly I was gripping my towel and how tense my shoulders had become. "Umm.. oh yeah," I said quickly. "I'm from Redditch, by the way. But um... yeah I am a fresher, but ... does that mean you're not?"

"Noooo..." Louis said, laughing. "I'm a junior, mate." His abs tightened as he laughed and I tried not to get hard on the spot. Fuck, Harold, I thought, trying to think of gross things to keep myself from getting a boner. 

"Oh, well. I'm Harry. Nice to meet you," I stuck out a hand, but then realized how awkward it was to do that in the bathroom while we were both nearly naked. "Nevermind," I said, blushing.

"Wow, mate," Louis said, patting me on the back. "You have a lot to learn about New York." He began snickering. 

I just stood there, frozen with Louis' hand on my back. I stared at the intricate series of black tattoos that circled his forearms. With his tight grip on me, I could hardly breathe.

"Maybe you can teach me," I blurted out, without even thinking. I had tried to be flirty, but it ended coming out super creepy. 

Louis raised an eyebrow. "Damn. Fresher is feisty," he said, pulling his hand away. "But I have my hands full with my own shit, mate. I'm sure you'll be find and make lots of fun fresher friends." 

"Wow, harsh," I replied, looking at the floor. 

"Don't take it personal," said Louis, shutting off the sink, and turning to the door. "I'm like this with everyone." 

And even though he was being super nasty and sarcastic, I could tell from his eyes that he was probably in pain. That something -- or someone -- had caused him to be like this. And I wanted to find out what....


	4. Classes Begin

Louis' Point of View

I woke up to the sound of my alarm blasting Katy Perry music. God only knows who had chosen such a bloody awful song -- it must have been one of my sisters when I was home for summer vacation. I hopped out of bed, reluctantly, and walked down the hall in my boxers and slippers. 

If I was being honest with myself, I was secretly hoping to run into Harry again. He had been so attractive, so eager, so adorable. He had these beautiful green eyes and long legs and a chiseled body. And he was so damn energetic and happy to be here. He kind of reminded me of myself, in a way, three years ago before I started uni and everything fell to shit. 

Half lost in my thoughts, I opened the door to the bathroom, but Harry wasn't there. Instead, there was some red headed kid at the sink. Disappointing. I sighed and walked to the urinal to take a leak. Then, I washed my hands and face in the sink. I turned to go back to my room, but just as I was leaving, Harry and the other brunette boy burst into the bathroom. 

They were running, surely in panic mode because they were going to be late for class or something. I couldn't help but snicker at their inexperience. 

"Hey, Louis," Harry called out, as he sprinted to the shower. Niall followed after him and tossed Harry a bar of soap. I noticed that each boy was wearing one shower shoe. For fuck's sake, I thought. Does it get any more hilarious?

"Louis," Harry called from behind the shower curtain. "I said hey. Or do you not have time to respond?" 

I turn on my heel, trying to hold back laughter at Harry's sassy tone. "I don't but I will. Hello Harry. Hello Harry's roommate." 

"Niall," Niall called from a different shower. 

"Irish?" I asked, halfway out the door. 

"Yup, from Mullingar," he called.

"Nice. See ya," I said, and I left the bathroom. 

For a second, as I returned to my room to change and get my bag packed, I felt normal again. I forgot about how bitter I was, how badly I've been hurt, how I probably haven't seriously spoken to anyone (aside from small talk) in months. I just felt-- better. 

Unfortunately, that good mood quickly faded as I entered the classroom about 15 minutes later. The class was packed with over-confident, cocky singers who thought they deserved Grammy's after doing one mediocre Britney Spears cover. I rolled my eyes and took a seat in the back, prepared to get a shit participation grade once again because I would never be able to get a word in edgewise with these conceited twats always talking over me. 

"Alright class," the professor said. "Introduce yourselves quickly for me. Let's go around the room."

My stomach lurched at the thought of having to speak those two sentences about where I'm from and what my major is and all that shit. Everyone would stare at me and look at me all funny because of my accent, and I wasn't in the mood for attention. 

"Hi, I'm Louis Tomlinson," I said quickly, when it came to be my turn. "I'm from Doncaster, England and I'm a music major. Third year." 

I saw a few people look at me with eyebrows raised, but I put my head down to ignore them. I was so sick of this shit. What were they going to do next, ask me to do balance a ball on my nose?

"Alright, well it looks like everyone's here. But there's 30 of you and only 17 spots. So to narrow it down, I'm giving you all an assignment," the professor said. 

My stomach instantly clenched and my heart started racing. I absolutely needed this class to graduate and it was only offered this semester. I was so fucked if I didn't get in....

"It's a group assignment. You'll have to harmonize and do a duet with a partner. I'll judge everything based on the work you turn in. Pairs will not necessarily be admitted together. If I notice a particular talent in one partner and not the other, I will only take the one."

Now I was actually going to vomit. Suddenly, students began pairing off and choosing their partners. I whirled around looking for someone who also needed a partner, but there wasn't anyone. How the fuck did they all pair up so quickly?

"Hey, uh," I said quietly, tapping some girl on the shoulder. "Do you know anyone who still needs a partner?" The girl shrugged and turned away without saying anything. "Fuck," I whispered to myself. 

"Hey -- I don't have one," a guy said, coming towards me from the back of the classroom. "Oh thank god," I replied. "I'm Louis. I'm a tenor." 

"Zayn. I'm an alto," he said. Fuck, I thought. That's not gonna sound good together. But it was too late. "Email me your pieces by tomorrow night. No groups of three. Must be video taped," the professor said. "You're free to leave." 

I asked for Zayn's number and planned to meet him later that night. Zayn was rather attractive, with soft brown eyes and dark brown hair. He had facial hair and a small build, and seemed like the type of guy who wore skinny jeans and smoked a ton of cigarettes -- kind of like me. Hopefully, this Zayn character would pull it together and help land me a spot in the class. 

As I thought about my duet with Zayn, I began heading to my next class--Music Theory 1330--and could have sworn I caught a glimpse of Harry sitting in the Intro to Music class as I walked down the hallway. 

I smiled. There was something about Harry that made me feel better even when I was in a shit mood. Like when I had ran into him in the bathroom, I had just gotten finished crying my eyes out over some nasty message an old friend had sent me. But I totally forgot about that when I saw Harry. 

Now I felt the same, and my worries about the duet floated behind me. I felt so curious about Harry... He was clearly gay--or at least bi--and he seemed interested. But I just couldn't go there. I couldn't start a relationship--not even a casual one. Not now, at least. Not with the shape I'm in......


	5. First Day of Uni

Harry's POV

"How was your first day?" Niall asked as I walked into the dorm. I took off my shoes and tossed my backpack onto the floor before hopping into bed with my laptop.

"Not bad. How was yours?" I asked Niall. Niall was also a music major like me, but he was doubling in economics too so he was only taking two music classes this semester. We were in Intro to Music together at 9am, but after that our schedules became totally different. I took a specialized chorus class at 10am and an acoustic class at 1pm, with a break in the middle to eat lunch and things.   
Niall had economics classes until 12 and then he was done for the day.

"It was okay mate. My Econ classes seem a bit harder. They don't solve the problems they same way I learned to in college," he said. I could see a bit of disappointment spread across his face, as he was frowning a bit and his eyes weren't as bright as they usually are.  
"Don't worry, mate. You'll get the hang of it," I said, opening the student portal to start one of my assignments.

"My classes seem kinda hard too. I'm not used to singing in a chorus so that's gonna be weird. What did you think of intro to music?" I asked him.

"I don't know. It seemed boring. The Professor kind of drones on and on, so you just know it's gonna be a snooze fest." I laughed at Niall's comment. He was right. The professor was an older woman in her sixties who spoke in a monotone and hardly had any personality. Apparently, she used to be a Broadway singer back in the day, but I couldn't see it at all. As far as I was concerned, she would make a better librarian than she would a music teacher.

"Yeah, she is not fun. We can always shoot spitballs at each other," I said, snickering. Niall cracked a smile, his mood lightening.

"Well, I'm gonna work on some homework," I said, tuning my guitar. "Cool, I'm hitting the library to work on a problem set with some classmates," said Niall, grabbing his bag. "Want me to get you a coffee or snack or something?"

Niall was such a sweetheart. I couldn't have asked for a better roommate. In addition to being super easy going, he was also caring and selfless. "Nah, that's okay, Ni," I replied. "Thanks so much though."

"No problem mate," he said, putting on his sneakers.

"Hey, Niall," I said quickly. There was something I really wanted to ask him before he left. "What did you think of Louis?"

"Louis?" Niall wrinkled his nose. "Ohhh.... the shower dude," he said remembering.

"Yeah," I said laughing. That's exactly what he was...

"Dunno," said Niall. "I only met him for like two seconds."

He had a point. But I was sort of asking if he found him attractive.

I definitely took Niall as straight, though he hadn't explicitly told me about his sexuality. He probably knew I was gay based on the comments I made about some of the football players that appeared when we played Madden the other day.

"Yeah," I said, turning my attention back to Niall. "That's true. I just found him really cute.... to be honest...."

Niall laughed. "Of course, mate. I mean he's an attractive guy. But I'm only into girls so I wouldn't know," he said.

There it was. Of course he was. "I know, mate," I said, a bit embarrassed by what I had just shared. "But... for me... would we be like cute together..."

Why the fuck did I say that? Oh my god. I hardly knew the guy— now I was thinking of dating him. And I was telling Niall?!! Fuck Harold. Fuck.

Niall smiled as he grabbed the door handle to leave. "Why wouldn't you?" He said with a smirk. "Yeah you'd be cute. Got a crush already, I see..."

I blushed. "Okay, Ni. Have fun studying!! Bye," I said, pretending to push him out the door.

He laughed and lifted his foot, nearly kicking me in the crotch. "Oh fuck off, mate," I said, laughing. "You are most definitely not the Karate kid."

"I most definitely am," he replies, and with that he left the dorm and walked down the hall.


	6. Duet

Louis' Point of View

 

What the fuck? I thought to myself. Is he fucking serious? Zayn and I had planned to meet in my dorm at 6:00 and it was now 6:35 and he was nowhere to be found. Now it was 6:36. I had already texted him multiple times and tried calling him, but he didn't respond. I was so bloody angry. Who did he think he was, messing up my chance of getting to a class that I needed to graduate? Seriously....

At 6:45, I decided to call it quits, and changed into sweatpants and a hoodie to go on a run. I had to work off some of this steam or I was going to go mad. Jesus, Zayn. Why did he have to fuck me up like this? 

Just as I was leaving the building, someone tapped my on the shoulder from behind. It was Zayn. He was standing there wearing black skinny jeans with holes in them and a black tshirt with his hair slicked back and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth acting like nothing had ever happened. 

But I couldn't even be angry with him, honestly, because he was so damn attractive. I mean, those eyes, that hair. I could hardly breathe just looking at him in the dim light of the street lamps. 

"Zayn, where have you been?" I asked, snapping out of my fantasy world. "We have to hand this thing in tonight at midnight and we need time to edit and everything. What were you thinking?"

Zayn shot me a guilty look, lowering his head like a dog who had something wrong. "I know, Louis. I'm so, so sorry. To be honest, I don't even have an excuse. I've been really nervous lately for the first day of classes and I couldn't sleep last night. So when I got home, I set my alarm so I would nap for an hour, and it ended up being like 3 hours... I slept right through the alarms and your calls and everything...."

Well that's your fucking problem, I wanted to say--and I would have said to anyone else. But Zayn's soft eyes made it hard to be my usual nasty self. "It's alright. Let's just go upstairs and work on it now, then," I said coolly, opening the door and motioning for him to follow me inside. 

We took the stairs up to my floor, and then walked into my tiny room. I closed the door behind Zayn. We were going to need privacy to record this duet and I didn't want outside noises or distractions coming in.

"Alright," I said, taking a seat at my desk. I looked up at Zayn who was awkwardly standing in the doorway still. 

"Oh, um sorry," I said, getting up to clear the clothes off my bed. "You can sit here." That's the perk of having a single-- it's small and you only get one chair. 

Zayn took a seat and I pulled the lyrics out of my folder so we could write the melodies next to them. We had decided over text that we were going to sing "Valerie" by Amy Winehouse, which was one of my favorite songs. And Zayn's too apparently. 

"Alright, mate," I said, looking over the lyrics. I knew the song by heart, but I was trying to figure out where it would be best for Zayn to sing. "So... Do you want to start off the song?"

Zayn looked like he had no idea what was going on. "Um, yeah," he said quietly. "Sure." 

"Okay," I said, writing out the notes. "You're alto, right? So I'll have you do a falsetto at some point..." I leafed through the pages filling out Zayn's parts, and then inserting my own, putting little stars where we were to harmonize. 

"Zayn, come over here," I said, when I was done. "Does this look good to you? What do you think?" 

Zayn took the paper from me and looked it over slowly. Then he nodded, his dark hair moving out of place a little. "Yup," he said. "Sounds good. Should we give it a run through?" 

I nodded and then pulled up the music on my laptop. We could play the piano for this song, but I preferred the full instrumental. It would sound a lot better when we recorded. 

"Okay, 1 - 2- 3- go," I said, clicking play. 

"Well sometimes I go out by myself...." crooned Zayn. Oh. my. god. I didn't even need to listen to anything more than just that. His voice was so sweet--so pure. I felt like I just been struck by lightening. I totally did not expect that from him.

As Zayn continued the song, I watched him carefully. He closed his eyes a bit on certain notes and snapped his fingers to the beat with one hand, placing the other hand on his stomach. It was so adorable.

"Why don't you come on over...." Zayn sang, motioning for me to come in. 

"Stop making a fool out of meeeee...." we crooned together. Our voices complemented each other perfectly, though I had to go a bit deeper than normal to even things out. "Why don't you come on over Va-aaa-l-er-ie?" 

Dear god. Zayn's falsetto was fabulous. I was so fucking impressed that I nearly forgot that it was quite possible that only one of us will get into the class. And if the professor had to pick one, I wouldn't blame him for choosing Zayn... Fuck, I thought. I'm so gonna be booted.

I tried to push that thought to the back of mind as we finished the song. Then, when it was finally over, I walked over my desk to grab some water and figure out what to do about Zayn's extra amazing talent overpowering mine. Zayn went and sat quietly on my bed, reading his phone while I worked. 

"Zayn," I said quietly, looking over at him. "You're like really, really good. Incredible."

Zayn blushed and we locked eyes. "I-- uh thanks, Louis," he said, looking away. "You're really good too. I really like doing this duet with you." 

"Same," I replied, cracking a smile. "But um... I know this is kind of bad. But I think the professor will probably take you over me if it comes down to it. And I was wondering if there was a way to help make my part a little more powerful so we're on a bit more equal footing..."

Zayn smirked at me. "Louis, you sound really good. Trust me. But if you're really concerned, we can work that out mate. Give me the music, yeah?" he said. 

I handed him the papers and a pen and he started to rework something, wrinkling his eyebrows as he wrote. "Okay, so during the refrain, I think you should really go for the power. And I'll go high... so we'll do this part together now, and I'll complement your style. Sound good?"

He showed me the revised music and I looked up at him, puzzled. Why hadn't I thought of that? 

"Yeah, that's amazing, Zayn," I said, smiling at him. "Let's try it." 

We went through the song again, this time starting right before the refrain so we could isolate this new part. I sang my part, deep and soulful, no holding back. I even threw in a few rifts. Zayn's soft voice stayed constant in the background, complementing my every note. 

"Awesome," I said, switching off the music and patting him on the back. Zayn looked at me with wide eyes. 

"What?" I asked, confused. "Nothing, I um. I need a quick break. Gotta smoke," he said, rushing out of the room. 

I could use a smoke too, but I didn't want to jeopardize my voice. It was 10pm now and our time was short to get this thing recorded. So I grabbed a glass of water and logged onto Facebook while I waited. 

Harry Styles friended you, the screen read. Harry who? Then it hit me. Curly. 

Suddenly, my mind flashed to Harry and how he cute he was with those big green eyes and curls and long legs and dimples and --ah. I almost felt bad for being so turned on by Zayn. But no. No. Absolutely not. I couldn't be with either guy. Not Zayn and certainly not Harry. I really had to get that through my head....

Suddenly, Zayn walked back in--and he seemed to be in quite a rush to finish the song. I turned on the music and booted up my video camera. Then I pressed record, and we jumped right into, immersing ourselves into the world of music. 

********************************************************************

About an hour later, we were finally finished with the duet. And I was super proud of our work. The first take went so well that we ended up using that instead of the other two versions we shot. I uploaded them to my computer and did some quick editing, creating an intro and ending credits. Then I sent it to the professor, and we were done.

I looked at the clock. 11:50pm. Perfect timing. 

"Alright, well that was fucking awesome," I said, giving Zayn a high five. Zayn smiled warmly. "Great job, mate," he said, slapping my hand. "Well--I'd better go. It's late."

He started to grab his bag. Then he looked at me and stopped. "Um, Louis," he said, staring at me. I walked over to where he was standing. "Yeah?" I asked quietly. He looked at my mouth, and I suddenly wanted to toss him onto my bed and kiss him until my lips were chapped and raw. 

We were standing to far apart to do anything, so I moved closer. So did he. Neither of us said anything for a while. We just stood there staring at each other. 

"I -- uh," Zayn started. Then, without another word, he grabbed my face and started kissing me. I grabbed his jaw and ran my fingers through his hair, working my tongue in and out of his soft mouth. I was probably fully hard at this point--and it was totally visible in my grey sweats, but I didn't care. Zayn was just too attractive. 

I pushed Zayn onto my bed, continuing to make out with him, and started tugging at his tshirt, trying to take it off. Zayn immediately pulled away and jumped off the bed. "I um," he said. "I should go." He ran to the door without looking at me. I sat on the bed by myself, completely confused as to what just happened. 

"And Louis," he said. "Don't tell anyone this happened. Especially not my girlfriend." 

Hey guys! Hope you liked it. Just a heads up this is still Larry - not Zouis - but there will be a love triangle and some decisions that the boys have to make. Please be patient. And let me know what you think!!!


	7. Dinner

Harry's point of view

"You hungry, Haz?" Niall asked, clicking his pen as he sat at his desk. "I'm about to go grab a late night snack."

"Wow," I said, laughing. "I was literally just about to ask you the same exact thing."

It was crazy how in sync Niall and I were with each other. Even though we took mostly different classes--aside from Intro to Music--we woke up at the same time and had really similar habits. We both showered in the morning, never skipped breakfast, and ate snacks really late at night.

"Perfect, let's go then," Niall said, tossing his notebook on his desk and making an explosion sound with his mouth as he jumped off the bed.

"Stop being a child," I said, giggling at him. "Stop being a childddd," Niall repeated in a super high pitched British accent. "Oh, that's exactly what I sound like," I replied, shooting him a dirty look and locking up the door.

We started walking across the hallway and down the stairs in pursuit of burgers and fries— or whatever American food was awaiting us at the 24-7 cafe. "What are you craving?" Niall asked. "A burger or a hot dog? Or Frenched Fries?"

I burst out laughing, elbowing Niall in the side. "It's French fries, you goon," I said. "I don't know why they call them that though— they're not even French." Niall giggled and punched me in the leg. I jumped backwards and kicked him in slow motion, nearly falling on top of him in the process.

As we trekked across campus, I began to take in my scenery. Taxis and cars whizzed around on the street beside us, and the skyscrapers sparkled in the midnight sky (reference ;)). It was so beautiful at night here in the city that never sleeps. But something about it seemed a bit too good to be true. 

"Time for French fries," Niall said, walking up to the queue once we got inside the restaurant. Surprisingly, despite how empty campus had seemed outside, it was packed in here. People were buzzing left and right, trying to get something to eat after a late night of studying.

I got in the queue behind Niall and tried to decide what I wanted. I felt too overwhelmed to read the whole menu, which was mostly an array of different types of fried meats, so I went with a cheeseburger and fries because you can never go wrong with that. Niall decided upon a spicy chicken sandwich and fries with a coke.

"I'd like a cheeseburger and fries please," I said when it was my turn. "Oh my god, you're British," the server said, looking up at me in astonishment after I placed my order. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Since Niall and I had arrived, people had been freaking out over our accents—usually in a positive way. And at first I found it endearing, but now it was starting to get on my nerves.

"Yeah, he is man. Watchu gon' do about it?" Niall said to the server, using the most exaggerated New York accent possible. The server gave us a weird look before leaving to get my burger. I flashed Niall a sneaky smile and slapped hands. 

"Where shall we sit, Prince Harry?" Niall asked in his default British accent, after we each got our trays of food. I scanned the room to find an open seat, looking for a booth rather than a two seater because it's always nice to have a little more room. That's when I saw him— Louis, sitting by himself, eating a burger and scrolling on his phone. He was wearing a black beanie and a leather jacket, which made him look absolutely sexy. 

"Hey, Lou!" I shouted, walking over to him. He didn't see me at first, but then I started waving and he shot me a smirk that appeared both annoyed and pleasantly surprised.

"God damn it, fresher," Louis said, looking up at me with his blue eyes and flashing a half smile. "Are you going to write my name in the sky too? Screaming my name across the cafe isn't enough?"

I beamed at Louis, turned on by how sassy and witty he was. "No, I'm just going to make a billboard next time. 'Sad boi Louis. Come say hi.'" Louis raised an eyebrow at me, and then looked up at Niall who was standing awkwardly behind me. "Hey, Niall," he said, breaking the sexual tension. "Hey, Louis," Niall replied. "Wanna sit with us?"

I swear I saw Louis almost smile— the corners of his mouth began to lift and his eyes crinkled, but it quickly transformed into a frown. "No, thanks," he said. "I'm off to bed, soon."

"Come on, you're barely finished with your burger. Just sit with us for like 10 minutes. We're all going back to the same place anyways," I said, trying to figure out why Louis was so hesitant to eat with us. His attitude said that it was because we were just lowly freshers, but his body language said it was something more than that.

"Alright. But just this once. I don't want people to think I'm a fresher," he said, pretending to look around suspiciously.

Louis grabbed his tray and followed Niall and I to an empty booth in the back. It was a dark blue color, with green seats, which is pretty tacky if you ask me. But it really made Louis' eyes pop.

"So how are your Frenched fries, Niall? Are they everything you hoped and dreamed of?" I asked, jokingly. Niall popped one in his mouth and chewed it dramatically as if he were on a cooking show. Then his eyes lit up and he stared into space. "Oh... my... oh my god. They're bloody amazing!" he cried.

"And this is why y'all go to music school and not acting school," scoffed Louis, crunching on a fry of his own. "Y'all?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Wow someone's American AF," Niall burst out, breaking off into a valley girl accent when he said AF. We all snickered at that one.

"Nah, just something I picked up here. I think it's silly the way they talk here. Way too casual. But anyways, how are classes going? Did that intro to music professor bore you to death yet or what?" Louis inquired, furrowing his brows together. 

Niall's eyes almost bugged out of his head. "Oh my god I was thinking the same thing— she is the worst," he replied, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"The worst is an understatement," said Louis. "You have no idea what she—" Suddenly, Louis stopped talking and looked up at the door, as if in a trance. A group of guys with (American) football jackets were walking into the cafe, and Louis made eye contact with one, nearly freezing on the spot.

"I—um. I have to go," said Louis, quickly getting up out of the booth and dashing to the exit. "Left something important at the library," he muttered over his shoulder.

But Niall and I both knew that wasn't true....  
*******  
Author's note: Okay, ahhh. The Narry bromance is like the cutest thing ever I love writing their dialogue. Also, sorry for holding out for so long but you're finally going to see in the next chapter why Louis is so bitter and closed off!!! Sorry for the wait, it just took a bit of setting up to get it right.


	8. Fuck

Trigger's: Eating disorders, self harm, suicide attempts, homophobia, violence

Louis' point of view

Fuck, fuck, fuck. There was no way this could be happening right now. No fucking way.

After I saw Liam in the café, I ran outside in a panic and completely lost control. I don't even know where I planned on going. I just kept running and running until my lungs were burning and my legs were aching and I couldn't go any further.

I remember collapsing on the sidewalk somewhere and just throwing up all over the ground, expelling that disgusting burger that I never deserved. Scratching at my wrists which I had foolishly allowed to heal. And crying. Crying so god damn hard that my head started to pound and I saw stars. I've never been so broken.

I had no idea I would react so badly when I saw him again— I knew it would be bad, but I didn't think it would be this bad, this unbearable. I thought I was doing so much better now, but as soon as I locked eyes with him, everything came flashing back to me in vivid detail.

It was sophomore fall again. Liam and I had matched on Tinder and recently started hooking up. He was handsome and tall, with brown hair and brown eyes and a sexy smile that was enough to get me hard on the spot. He had strong hands and a muscular body— and boy, he sure knew how to use them. But at the end of the day, we were both super busy— him with football, and me with my music stuff— so we decided to keep it casual, no strings attached.

"This is fun," Liam would coo, before sucking on my collar bone. "I love having fun..."

A few weeks into our no strings arrangement, however, Liam told me he wasn't out yet. It kind of freaked me out a bit because it meant that we had to be super careful about everything we did together. But I told him that wasn't my business and it was fine by me since we weren't serious. We continued to meet up once a week just to fuck. He could make me moan like no other— and it was usually enough to make me forget about his secret life as a 'straight guy' outside of my bedroom. 

"Moan for me, baby," Liam would whisper as he penetrated me with a finger. "Get me wet."

Eventually, after a couple of months of this, I started getting attached to Liam. And Liam started getting attached to me. I enjoyed telling him little stories that made him giggle, tickling him where he liked it, asking him about the football team and pretending I understood the game just to make him happy. He even tried to learn about music for me— and he showed up with flowers and a Teddy bear on Valentine's Day (but hidden in his gym bag until he got inside). It was clear we wanted more than just a casual relationship. But I wasn't sure how we were going to do it with him still in the closet. I'll never forget what he told me that night.

"Louis," he whispered, caressing me in his strong arms and looking up at me with those big brown eyes. "I love you, Lou. And I want to be with you. For real."

I remember almost crying on the spot. I couldn't believe it— because I had felt the same way for a while, but never wanted to push him. I was so damn excited.

"I love you too, babe," I replied. "We'll make this work."

But it didn't work. Not one single bit. About a week later, Liam and I went to a party at the football house and we both got a little too drunk. We went upstairs to have sex, and while we thought we were being quiet, we were actually being extremely loud.

Liam and I used to alternate between bottom and top, and that night, I was the one riding. So when one of the football players opened the bedroom door, it was me who was doing to the work— and it was me who Liam blamed for raping him.

As soon as he saw his friend walk in, Liam jerked away from me and started pretending to pass out. "Oh my god," he stuttered. "He - he drugged me. I can't even move."

That night I received the worst beating of my life. Gus — the guy who opened the door — picked me up off of Liam and hurled me across the room like I was a fucking sack of potatoes. I crashed against the dresser and a glass picture frame fell and smashed on top of me, leaving me with glass splinters all over my body— including one in my eye.

The whole time, Liam didn't react or even offer me help. He actually encouraged me — along with the rest of the team— to "get the fuck out!", breaking his drugged out facade for a split second to get rid of me.

Ultimately, I had to drag myself home that night and hope I wasn't concussed. Because even though I felt half dead, I would be damned if i had to pay $4,000 for a fucking ambulance ride.

When I went to the ER the following morning, I had 4 broken ribs, a fractured wrist and a broken nose. Not to mention the stitches I needed to get because of the damage caused by the glass. I was sent to the ICU because I had waited so long to get treatment that I started internally bleeding.

I spent 3 week's on bed rest after that. But the worst part of it wasn't the physical pain— it was the mental pain. The next day, Liam called and told me the absolutely most vile thing I've ever heard in my life.

"Hey, so I can't talk to you anymore," he said immediately. He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't ask how I felt. He didn't apologize. Nothing.

"I don't regret what I did last night," he continued, saying each syllable slowly and clearly. "What we had was never real and it's hilarious if you think it was. It was all in your head, Louis." And with that, he hung up the phone before I even got to respond to those gut-wrenching words.

I was never the same after that. Physically, I recovered within a few months, but mentally, I only deteriorated. Every day I replayed those words in my head until I started to believe them. And that's when the depression started flooding in. And the anxiety. And the panic attacks.

At first I blamed Liam for the pain, but then I started to blame myself. I blamed myself for being stupid, for believing that he actually cared, for thinking any of it would work out. It was all my fault for actually believing that anyone would ever fucking care about a lowlife like me. 

Soon, the self-deprecating thoughts and self-blame became too much to bear, and I quickly started looking for a way to escape the evil thoughts in my head. I remember the first time I cut myself on the thigh on a Thursday night—how sickeningly sweet it felt to punish myself intentionally and numb the pain pulsing in my veins. I remember the first time I skipped a meal, and then another, and then another, letting my stomach cry for hunger until I doubled over in pain and passed out on the floor. I remember running for hours, using every last bit of energy I had left until I collapsed. I remember making myself throw up, wiggling my finger down my throat until I hit the right spot to give myself relief.

I honestly don't know how I made it through the semester without flunking out. Somehow, as much as I hated myself, I knew I couldn't afford to lose my scholarship, so I did everything it took to make As—despite missing nearly a month of classes. I got myself a tutor, I went to office hours, I practiced my music for nearly 8 hours a day.

But the whole time, I was dying inside. By the end of the semester, I was 100 pounds, eating 300 calories a day, running for 3 hours a day, cutting three times a day, and constantly high. I knew I couldn't survive like this, and I honestly didn't want to.

On the last day of the semester, before going home to England, I remember taking a whole bottle of sleeping pills and waking up in a hospital bed in a white room. And that's when I knew I had hit rock bottom.

After that, I went to rehab for the summer in England. I gained the weight back, I got on anti-anxiety meds. I joined a trauma group. I even worked on some music. I did everything I was supposed to, going through the motions, proving to the staff around me that I was better.

But I wasn't better. Not at all. I had just developed a new coping mechanism— one that wasn't as physically harmful as my past ones had been. It was apathy. I decided to just be hateful, sarcastic and nasty to everyone and everything. To hate the world and everyone in it. Because the only way I could manage to not hate myself was to take all of my self-hatred and displace it onto other people.

And it had worked out pretty well up until tonight.

Now, as I lied on the sidewalk next to a puddle of my own vomit, I felt so ashamed of what I had become. What Liam had done to me. What I had done to myself. I had to be fucking stronger than this.

I knew I needed to get up and go home. But, deep down, all I really wanted was for someone to come help me up. For someone to tell me it was going to be okay— to hold me in their arms and tell me they loved me.

But that was never going to happen. Even if through some miracle someone actually loved me, I'd never be able to love them back fully. I couldn't love again after Liam. There was no way I could be emotionally available to anyone after having my trust broken and my heart stomped on a million times over.

I couldn't love. No, absolutely not. But I could fuck. The other day, I had wanted to fuck Zayn. I wanted to fuck him the way I had fucked half a dozen guys in London after my rehab stint. I wanted to breathe him in and spit him out like I had with the others. I wanted to use his body as a meaningless distraction to numb the pain. 

But it's not Zayn I want with me here right now helping me. It's Harry. All I want is Harry and I hate myself for wanting Harry because it means I care. And caring means opening up, breaking down my walls. And I just can't do that again. I can't...

So I pick myself up, using the little strength I have left, and grab my phone to call an Uber to come get me. It turns out I was 10 miles away from campus. Bloody hell.

The Uber driver arrives a few minutes later and looks at my pale face and bloodshot eyes. "Rough night?" he asks. "You don't know the half of it," I reply.

***********  
Authors note: this took a dark fucking turn. It surprised me too. Thoughts???? Sorry to portray Liam in such a bad light. Obviously he would never do anything like that but I just wanted Louis' ex to be a one d boy. And we'll see... maybe Liam will change...


	9. Nurse Harry

Harry's Point of View

I was getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night when I heard someone on the other side of the hall.

Half asleep, I thought nothing of it, but as I kept walking, I saw that it was Louis. And he looked bloody awful.

He was pale as a ghost with bloodshot eyes and his pants were torn at the knees, with a layer of dried blood coating each knee. Louis was limping and looked like he was about to pass out.

I rushed towards him, supporting him with my arm as he started to fall. "Louis! What happened?" I asked. Louis groaned and didn't answer. He started falling onto me and I caught him, gently laying him down on the floor.

"Are you Okay? Should I call public safety?" I asked in a panic. I've never had someone pass out on my before and didn't know what to do. "No," he croaked. "I'm fine."

"Well you look awful," I said, shooting a text to Niall, letting him know what was going on in case he came looking for me. "What happened?"

"I just... I don't know," he said lazily. "I ran ten miles and then I collapsed and threw up on purpose and fell and scratched my wrists..."

My face twisted in horror as I realized what Louis had done. He seemed too out of it to censor himself, and I knew in the morning he would probably regret telling me this. But Louis was clearly self harming— in more ways than one. Over exercise, self induced vomiting, wrist scratching. It all started to make sense. His nasty attitude, his barely touched burger in the café, his secretive nature. It probably all had something to do with that guy he had run from in the café....

"Harry," Louis croaked. I looked back at Louis and realized my eyes were watering. I tried to wipe my eyes without him noticing, but to no avail. "You're crying Harry, fucking stop it. Just help me to bed, please. I just need to go to sleep. I'm a little beat up that's all."

I nodded, and helped Louis to his feet, grabbing him under the arms. Louis didn't feel that skinny to me— in fact, he had curves and he seemed pretty strong. But I knew that people of all shapes and sizes could have eating disorders, and I was genuinely worried for Louis and his health.

"Alright, get in bed," I said softly, supporting the arch of Louis' back with my hand as he climbed up to the bed. The room was almost entirely empty aside from a tiny poster on the wall that said 'I don't fucking care.' It made me feel a little sad.

Once Louis was in bed, I quickly left the room and grabbed Louis a glass of water and a wet paper towel with a little bit of soap to disinfect his torn up knees and arms. "Thank you Harry," Louis said weakly, as I washed his wounds. "I... I know I act like I don't I care. But I really do. About you."

My cheeks flushed red and I stared at him in disbelief. He looked so weak and sick in his bed, all tucked in like a child. "I care too, Louis," I said, smiling. "And, you know. Whatever you're dealing with, you probably won't want to talk about in the morning, when you're, you know, mean Louis..."

"Fuck mean Louis," Louis said, rolling over and closing his eyes. "He's a dick."

I laughed and nodded. "He can be. But he means well," I said. "But just know that I'm always here to help and I'm always here to talk. No matter what."

Louis jolted his eyes open and looked up at me, seeming to sort of remember something. "No," he said, staring at me and making a pouty face. "You'll hurt me like Liam did."

And then he laid back down and closed his eyes. I didn't ask who Liam was, mostly because I already knew, but also because I wanted him to calm down. I rubbed his back for twenty minutes until he was asleep and left a granola bar next to his bedside table for the morning. Something told me louis skipped breakfast often.

"Goodnight, Louis," I whispered. 

Then I closed the door, but left it unlocked, so I could check in on him in the morning.

I returned to my room and went back to sleep, dreaming of Louis cuddling on my chest in his boxers with his two skinned knees.


	10. The Morning After

Louis' Point of View 

 

I woke up to my whole body aching. My was pounding, my knees and arms burned, and my stomach felt like I had been stabbed in the gut fifty times.

I groaned and rolled over, taking in my surroundings. The last thing I remember after leaving the café was running and running until I fell. Then I called that stinking Uber and somehow dragged myself upstairs.

But I don't remember making it to bed. I looked around the room. There was water and a granola bar on bedside table. I certainly hadn't put that there. Oh my god, I thought, my face flushing red.

It was Harry. Harry had been in here last night, helping me and tucking me in and rubbing my back. And I fucking told him everything— well not everything. But I told him that I cared about him. Bloody fucking hell. Good job Lou.

 

I tried to get up but I felt splintering pain shoot down my spine. I looked at the clock. It was 8:40am. I had to be at class at 9:00 or I would be cut from the class automatically... even if our audition tape got us through.

I forced myself to get up, wincing in pain as I held onto my bed post for support. Then, I slowly grabbed a fresh pair of pants and tugged them on, leaving the same Tshirt on. I reached for my backpack and tossed it on the bed.

 

Just as I was packing my bag, my door creaked open a crack. "Lou?" Harry whispered, popping his head in. "How are you feeling?" He stared at me with those big emerald eyes, his wet hair dripping all over his Tshirt. 

"I'm fine Harry," I huffed, trying to get my shoes on. I could hardly bend my knees and nearly toppled over.

 

"Woah, mate," Harry said, rushing in and grabbing my arm to steady me. "Where are you going?"

I locked eyes with Harry, my stomach filling with butterflies as I peered into his wide eyes. They were full of pain and concern, like he had seen something terrible just happen. He definitely knew something was wrong with me— and not just physically.

 

"Look, Harry," I said, sighing. "Thank you for helping me home yesterday. I really appreciate it. But I'm fine and I have to get to class or else I'll be booted from the class. You have to have perfect attendance the first two weeks."

 

Harry nodded and looked me up and down. "No problem. Just being a friend," he said quietly, still holding my arm as I got my second shoe on. "But you don't look like you're able to walk that far. Where is it, West campus?"

 

I nodded. "Well Ni and I are headed there too. We can walk with you and make sure you get there on time. I just wanna make sure you're okay," Harry said, handing me the granola bar by the bedside table.

 

"No thanks, Harry," I said quickly. "I have a stomachache." Harry shot me suspicious look. "You didn't eat your burger last night either," he said. And he was right. I was a healthy weight still — I had been since rehab. But I had been relapsing since coming back to Uni. No one was there to force me to eat or make me stick to my meal plan. I tried to eat as much as I could, but some days my demons were too strong and it just didn't happen.

 

I nodded, and in an attempt to get Harry off my back, I took the bar. "I'll have it in class if I feel better," I said, tossing it into my bag.

"Okay, I'll get Niall. Let's start to head out, we've only got 10 minutes," Harry said.

Harry left and returned with Niall. I quickly said hello and we began to head downstairs, using the elevator for my sake.

 

Once we got outside, I realized how bad shape I was in. As Harry and Niall quickly darted across the sidewalk, I slowly limped behind them, wincing in excruciating pain.

"Hey, mate. We'll help you," Niall said spinning around, grabbing me from under the shoulder. "Harry get on the other side."

Harry did as instructed and the two boys held me and helped me to walk. "We're your crutches," Harry said, giggling. I wanted to laugh too--I wanted to laugh and give Harry a big hug and thank him for everything. But instead, I frowned. I had to keep up my apathetic facade. I couldn't show him I enjoyed this— that I enjoyed him.

 

"Oh fuck, it's 8:55," Niall said, looking at his watch. Without saying anything, he and Harry jolted my legs up and held me like a fucking baby, sprinting to West Campus.

 

"Oh my god, bloody hell!" I screamed, trying to break free of their grasp. "Put me down!!" I yelled. "No can do, Lou," Niall said. "We're almost there. Just two seconds."

 

Finally, after what felt like hours— and after many, many stares from onlookers— we made it to the entrance and they agreed to put me down. Luckily, my class was right next to the door, so all I had to do was limp inside and sit down. "Thank you, boys," I called to them as they left for their class. "No problem," Harry said, winking. "Any time."

 

As I slid into my seat, nearly toppling over, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Zayn was sitting in the seat directly next me, shooting me one of the dirtiest looks I've ever seen. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were curled. I felt myself turn pale— or paler than I already was— and looked straight ahead at the professor, pretending I didn't notice him.

 

"Alright class, so I don't want to waste your time. I'm going to start by reading out the 17 who made it into the class. If you aren't called, please kindly leave."

 

He clears his throat and begins:

 

"Christina D'Angelo  
Christopher Adams  
Macy Williams  
Andrew Chen  
Casey Benedetto  
Emilia Torres  
Hailey Greenberg  
Zoe Mendez  
Zayn Malik"

 

I held my breath. The professor had been reading mostly pairs of students who had worked together, or a single person if their partner didn't make it. If I made it in, my name would likely be after Zayn's — if it wasn't, I was fucked.

 

"Joseph O'Connor"

 

FUCKKKKK. I wanted to throw up and run out of the classroom. Zayn not only fucked me over by rejecting my hookup, but now he took my spot in the class. I shot him a glare, and he smiled back, waving his fingers and making a kissy face.

 

"Caroline Sabra  
Kelly Rivera  
Nicholas Stone  
Victor Andopolous  
Jenna Adams  
Stephanie Sapia  
Douglas Santana."

 

Wow. Wow. That was it for me. I got up to leave, forgetting how beat up I was. I took one step and fell immediately, slamming onto a chair in front of me. Everyone turned to look at me, and I didn't even care. I just lay there, pathetic and hideous, for everyone to laugh at.

 

"Oh, sorry that's only 16. Louis Tomlinson," said the Professor looking over his notes.What the fuck? I couldn't believe it. Was this some sort of sick joke?

 

I pulled myself back into the chair, confused but relieved by what had just happened. By some miracle, I had made it into the class by the skin of my teeth. Smirking, I peered over at Zayn, who looked like he was about to throw up.

 

"Alright, class," the professor said. "So let's start by going through all the videos and critiquing them as a class. Only constructive criticism please. Who wants to go first?"

 

I raised my hand high and proud. "Zayn and I would," I said, grinning and shooting him a look.

 

"Okay, Mr. Tomlinson. Sounds good," he said, pulling up the video. "You did Valerie by Winehouse, right?"I nodded.

The video began and immediately, I became lost in Zayn's voice. I was pretty annoyed because I was super upset with Zayn and his homophobic bullshit, but there was no denying how angelic and sweet his voice was. As I rocked back and forth to the music, my legs hurt a little less and I began to loosen up, all my tension leaving my body.

Then my voice came on, and I saw myself enter the screen. I immediately blushed, as the class turned around to look at me. Ugh, I thought. They probably think I suck. I slunk down in my seat and opened my phone. "Harry Styles sent you a message," my Facebook read.

 

I clicked on the messenger app and opened the message, a little surprised that Harry wantedto get in touch with me. "How are you feeling? We will come by the classroom to help you to your next class at 10. Xo Harold."

 

My heart sighed when I read that message. He was so sweet. He was so caring— he was exactly the person I wanted to be with. But I just couldn't. I couldn't let Harry into my world of darkness. Not just because it was shameful, but because I would ruin him too. And he was so pure and sweet and innocent. I couldn't mess him up like that. I couldn't hurt him.

"What do we think class?" The professor's voice interrupted my internal monologue.

 

"I thought it was really beautiful," said a girl, raising her hand. "I think Zayn's falsetto and Louis' powerful voice really complemented each other— and they worked so well together. It seemed effortless. And there was a lot of chemistry."

 

I smiled. So they didn't hate me. I saw Zayn grimace as the world chemistry and I laughed a little to myself. As angry I was with him, I couldn't help but feel bad. I was super fucked up, but at least I was free to by myself. For whatever reason, Zayn didn't have that privilege--or he wouldn't allow himself it. When was he ever going to come out?

 

"I agree. I think They each have really different talents, and they combined them together to create something really powerful and emotional. I love the song choice, it was really fitting," another student chimed in. I smiled. It is quite a good song. 

 

Students continued to make comments, most of which were positive with the exception of some snobby girl who said we needed more "stage presence" whatever that meant. We weren't even on a bloody stage. 

Then, as we went through the rest of the videos, I tried to relax and forget about Zayn and Liam and Harry and everything that had happened last night and just listen to the music, letting it fill the empty spaces inside me.....


	11. Contemplation

Harry's Point of View 

After class this afternoon, I decided to take a walk by the park near my dorm. As much as I wanted to return home to Niall, I felt like I needed to be alone to process what had just happened last night. Besides, it was Friday, and I planned on talking to Niall about it over a drink later. 

I walked up the street to where the park began, and looked at all the people walking around, mostly tourists stopping constantly to take tacky photos or look at Google Maps to figure out where they hell they were. 

To be honest, that was me half the time, but since I went to school here now, I didn't consider myself a tourist anymore--despite my serious lack of direction and inability to use the subway properly. The Tube was just so much easier to use; it covered the whole city and had tons of helpful workers. Here in New York, there were countless parts of the city that didn't have subway access, and there were never any workers to offer help with directions. 

Sighing over my shitty directional skills, I sat down on a bench across from the Washington Square Arch. It was only September, but I could tell it was going to get cold soon based on the cool breeze that was nipping at my shoulders. 

I sat there, trying to clear my mind, and just think about nothing, but of course I couldn't. I had to face the facts, deal with the problems at hand. 

Louis was sick and hurting badly--and I didn't know what to do. I had helped him the very best I could today, walking him from class to class, making sure he got there alright. Then, after his last class, instead of getting lunch like I usually do, I walked him to the campus Health Clinic so they could check him out. He said he'd text me when he got the verdict. 

I'm sure Louis would be fine physically within a week or two, but that didn't mean much if he was struggling as badly as I thought he was. Though I had never really had any serious mental health struggles of my own, my sister had struggled severely with anorexia for years when she was in college. 

It had been taxing on the whole family, especially because we didn't know how to help her. But then we started taking to her to a treatment center, and the therapist helped educate us about the illness and how we could do small things to help her. I knew that patience was key in helping people with mental illness, and that you couldn't magically expect them get better overnight, no matter how hard you tried to help.

I also knew that there was usually an underlying issue that was the true cause of their physical symptoms. If Louis was hurting himself, it wasn't because he wanted to--it was because he was dealing with something mentally that made him feel out of control or ashamed of himself. The self-harm was just his way of coping with these deeper issues, just like starving had been Gemma's coping mechanism.

I felt a warm tear stream down my eye as I thought back to Gemma and how sick she was. I didn't want Louis to become that way, to hurt himself more. He was so beautiful, so talented, so amazing. I just wished he could see himself from my eyes. And I wished I could help him. 

I thought about knocking on his door tonight to see if he wanted to come for a drink with Niall and I, but I knew he would probably say no. He wasn't so friendly to me at the health clinic. In fact, he pretty much had a melt down in the waiting room.

"God damn it, Harry!" he shouted, after I helped him check in. "I appreciate that you want to help me. I really do. But I'm not a god damn child. I'm 21 god damn years old and I can check myself into the doctor by my god damn self!!! Okay?" 

Wounded, I took a step back, nodding slowly. Louis, nearly collapsing, took a seat next to me. "You should go," he said, quietly. "I'm sure you have things to do. Like jerk off in your room like all the other freshers." I laughed at the joke, but then raised an eyebrow at him as if to ask 'are you sure?' 

"Please go, Harry," he said softly. "I'll text you as soon as I'm done seeing the doctor. I promise. I just need some time alone. And I don't want you worrying about my personal shit anymore. I'm far too much of a hot mess for anyone to deal with." 

I nodded, agreeing that it would be good for him to have some alone time. "Feel better, Louis. And let me know if you need anything." He looked up at me with those big blue eyes, and I just wanted to kiss him right there in front of everyone. But I knew I had to leave, so I turned away. "Bye Louis," I said. He didn't say goodbye back. 

Speaking of the devil, my phone started to vibrate against the park bench and I opened it quickly to find a new text from Louis. "I tore a muscle in my right leg... explains the limp. And my back is bruised from hitting the pavement--apparently I fell backwards. No concussion though," the text read. "That's great, Louis. How long's recovery time?" I typed back. "Two weeks on crutches for the leg and I'll need pain meds for three weeks for my back. Lucky me." I smiled to myself, happy that he was okay--at least physically. 

"And Louis... Did they do bloodwork? Is everything okay with that?" I kind of regretted sending that last question--it seemed a bit too personal. But bloodwork was key for people with eating disorders, as it could show the nutrients they were lacking. "Electrolytes were a bit low," he responded. "Haven't been hungry lately, probably because of this bloody disgusting dorm food. But I have to eat and drink more, apparently." 

I nodded to myself. Okay, I thought, taking a mental note. I should keep an eye on that.... 

Feeling excited that Louis had opened up a bit about his eating, I decided to be bold and ask him for a drink. "Okay, well please do that, Lou. Niall and I want you well!" I typed. "Down to join us for a drink tonight? I have a bartender set in my room. We can whip it up here in the dorm so you don't need to walk." 

Louis didn't answer right away like he had before. Suddenly, I felt stupid for even asking. There was no way he would want to do anything with us. Plus, my message had sounded so creepy, like I was trying to get him drunk or something. 

A stared at the pedestrians for a few more minutes, and then decided to walk back to my dorm. My face was red with embarrassment, but I didn't care. Who cares what these New Yorkers think of me anyways? I'm just a silly kid with a British accent, according to them. 

As I got halfway home, my phone flashed. I half expected it to be Niall, wondering where I was. But it was Louis. "Dorm drinking? What are you 18?" he responded, sarcastically, poking fun at my age. "But sure, I'm down." 

"Sweet!" I typed back, a bit too quickly. "10pm. See you then." 

I walked home, beaming. I saw a tourist taking a photo of her friend jumping in front of the Washington arch and decided to photobomb it, jumping into the background with a giant grin on my face. 

Then I sprinted home, my plaid shirt flapping in the wind. 

 

Author's Note: Hiiiiiiiii readers! Thanks for making it this far. Sorry the chapters have started to get super long, I'll try to make them a little shorter moving forward. What do you think of Harry and Louis' relationship so far? Is the drink going to go well? What do you want to happen? ALSO I ADDED PICTURES FOR ALL THE CHAPTERS SO CHECK THAT OUT IF U WANNA. Thanks!!


	12. Happier

Louis' Point of View

Oh my god. Today had been an absolute nightmare. Between having to be carried around from class to class from hobbling on crutches after my doctor's appointment, I felt more embarrassed and incapable than a toddler who just shit their pants. To make matters worse, I spent the whole day in constant fear that I would run into Liam again--and I really had no idea how I was going to handle it if it actually happened. 

 

I was currently sitting in my room watching a Shameless on Netflix trying to recover what had just happened in the past 24 hours. I really needed to get my God Damn shit together.Today, after barely making it home on crutches, I sat down at my desk and made a list of my semester goals. Goals that didn't involve Liam or Harry or Zayn or anyone. Just me.

First off, I wanted to do well in my advanced music class. It was a miracle that the professor let me into the class today. I knew it would be an extremely tough course, but I knew I could do well if I really applied myself, so I started marking down the upcoming assignments and making a revision schedule. I did the same for my other four courses and then took out my books to get ahead on my revising for the week to come. 

For some reason, revising and organizing my coursework always relaxed me. Even in the depths of my self harm, it was the one thing I could still focus all my energy on. It made me feel normal and successful and goal-oriented--and it made me feel in control, at least for a little while.

 

My perfectionist attitude, though, was part of what got me into this mess, according to my therapists at the rehab clinic. They warned me to be careful not to overdo it and obsess with grades like I have in the past. But hey, the semester was just getting started. I had every right to plan and get a head start on studying.

 

Halfway through my revision, though, I began to feel a stabbing pain in my stomach and I realized I hadn't eaten all day. I knew I needed a real meal, but there was no way I was going back outside and hobbling on my crutches to get one. Instead, I chewed on Harry's granola bar and put a cup of noodles in the microwave. I really didn't want to be eating anything-- all I really wanted to do was starve and punish myself. But I knew that my body would take longer to heal without the proper nutrition, so I decided to just fuck it and be a gross fat ass. It's not like I had anything to lose at this point.

 

Now, as I sat watching Netflix, my stomach continued to growl, despite the snacks that I had just eaten. Frustrated, I rolled over, looking at the clock. It was only 8pm. I was trying to pass the time until 10pm when I was going to meet Harry and Niall, but it felt like it was taking forever. 

 

I really shouldn't have agreed to drinking with them, but I knew myself well enough to know that tonight could easily end with me crying hysterically with slit wrists on the floor after the Liam encounter. So I took Harry's invite as an opportunity to get out of my solitary prison— I mean dorm— even if it just meant going down the hall.

 

God, my bloody stomach wouldn't stop rumbling. I really had no food left to eat in my room and I wasn't about to go outside tonight. Hands shaking, I took out my phone and began to text Harry, cringing as I did it.

 

"Hey, Harry," I typed. "I'm really sorry to bother you but would you mind picking me up something to eat? I'll pay you back." Then, I went back to watching Netflix, but I guess it was starting to get boring because the next thing I knew, I was fast asleep.... ***********"Hey, Lou," I heard Harry whisper. He was standing over me with a large paper bag in his hand, smiling.

 

"What— What the fuck?" I asked, jerking out of bed in a panic. I always woke up completely startled, no matter what the occasion. Another benefit of being high strung and full of anxiety all the time. 

 

"I got you food, like you asked," he said, smiling and opening the bag. The aroma of Italian food began to waft through my room and I immediately wanted to vomit. I should have specified what I wanted, so he wouldn't have picked out something so unhealthy.

 

"Oh thanks, fresher," I said limping across the room to grab my wallet. "How much was it?"

 

"Don't worry about it, Lou," Harry replied, smiling. 

 

"Oh come on," I said, smirking. "You're going to want something in return."

 

"Just your company,"Harry said, smirking back. "I got something for me too. I thought we could eat together."

 

My stomach tightened and I was overcome with the intense desire to run out of my room. I hated eating in front of other people— which is why I had hardly touched my burger in front of Harry last night. Ever since Liam, eating had made me feel so vulnerable and gross and uncomfortable. But Harry had gone out of the way to pick me this food up, so I couldn't just leave. I was a mean person, but not that mean.

 

"Okay, sure," I said, sitting down on the floor with him, pretzel style. "What did you get?"

 

"Italian," Harry said. "I got a bunch of stuff since I didn't know what you liked. Spaghetti and meatballs, a chicken dish, a Caesar salad."

 

I smiled at how thoughtful Harry was and reached for the chicken. I knew I should have to salad to save calories, but I was too damn hungry and I knew it wasn't enough food.

 

"Spaghetti and meatballs it is for me," Harry said, grabbing the tray excitedly.

 

I smiled at Harry, watching as he opened the tray and started eating with a plastic fork. He wasn't worried at all about the calories or the carbs or any of it. He was just eating and enjoying, like I used to before Liam.

 

I stabbed my chicken with a fork and began cutting slowly. It was a chicken cutlet, which meant it was fried in oil or something unhealthy like that. But I was too hungry to care. I quickly began eating it and then looked at Harry who was smiling.

 

"Glad to see you got your appetite back, mate," he said, picking up a spaghetti strand and twirling it into his mouth. "You didn't look so good yesterday."

 

My face flushed red. For a minute, I forgot he was there watching me eat. "Yeah, I mean once you give me something that's not from the cafeteria, my appetite comes right back. I can't stand the food here after three years," I replied, wrinkling my nose to make my excuse seem more genuine. 

 

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah, makes sense," he said. He sort of looked me up and down. He had a concerned look in his eyes. Avoiding his gaze, I looked down at my food and ate one of the vegetables that came on the side.

 

"Hey, Lou," Harry said slowly. He was nearly done with his food by now and I was hardly started. "Can I ask you something?"

 

I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "If you're going to ask me to tutor you in how to not be a total loser fresher, I'm not interested. I took on too many students this year."

 

Harry laughed and our eyes connected. I looked away, instantly embarrassed by how turned on I was by him.

 

"No, Lou," he said. "Trust me, it's not that. Though, I wish you would take me under your wing."

 

I smiled and continued eating my chicken, noticing that Harry was nearly done but I had only just gotten started. "Out with it mate, what are you asking me?" I demanded, watching Harry intensely as he played with one of his curls. 

"Louis, are you gay?" Harry asked quietly. 

We both just looked at each other and then instantly burst out laughing. 

"Harold Styles," I said, still giggling. "What kind of question is that? Do I look like I'm into women?" 

Harry shook his head, laughing. "No, but you can never be too sure. My Gay-dar isn't perfect. I've misread my fair share of people...."

"Well, you're not misreading me. I'm only into men, Harry," I said, running my hands through my hair and striking a pose for dramatic effect. 

"Okay, well me too," Harry replied, wiping some pasta sauce off his face. 

"Really," I said. "I took you as bi."

Harry shrugged. "Not lately. I haven't dated women in years. I don't think I'll go back to it." 

"Why's that?" I asked, genuinely interested in his reasoning.

"I don't know. I just feel more attracted to men," Harry replied. He looked up at me as if he wanted to say something more, but didn't. Then, he grabbed his empty tray and tossed it in the trash. 

"Well, Mr. Styles," I said, taking another bite of my chicken. "Aren't you full of surprises?"

"I guess I am, Mr. Tomlinson," he replied, smirking. "Who do you think you are calling me that, a Professor?" 

"Maybe I am. Professor Louis Tomlinson. Ph.D. in apathetic studies," I said, laughing at my own joke. "I teach Intro to Bitterness and Depression 101." 

Harry laughed, but I could tell from the way he looked at me that he didn't find it entirely humorous. He looked sort of sad, pitiful. 

"Professor Harry Styles," he said, jumping onto my bed. His skinny jeans clung to his long legs and I suppressed the urge and jump on top of him. "Ph.D. in eagerness," he continued. "This year I'm offering two courses: How to be a Dumb Fresher 205 and Smiling too Much 101."

Laughing, I finished the last bit of my chicken and then got up and tossed it in the trash. "You're too much Harry," I said, staring into his big green eyes. And for a moment, I just stood there, finally feeling genuinely happy. 

******************************

Author's note: Ooooohh. Things are heating up. What do y'all think? Originally, I wanted Harry to press Louis about his mental health issues, but as you can see, he is holding back because he doesn't want to upset him. I'm unsure what to do about this -- should Louis tell him on his own? I feel like if Harry asks, Louis will probably just explode on him and isolate himself. Decisions, decisions. 

Also for my fellow Americans, it's probably obvious, but revision means studying. It took me like three months to figure that out-- when Brits said "I'm revising" I always thought it meant they were correcting their essays. But it really means studying. Lmao rip

Did anyone catch the song reference in the title? *Ed* ;)

 


	13. Drinks With The  Boys

Harry's Point of View

"Come on Niall, you know how to use a cocktail shaker," I said, giggling as Niall nearly dropped the bottle and splattered our drinks all over the floor. I had asked Louis if he wanted to come over a bit earlier at 9:30 instead of 10, since we had just finished dinner together. But he said he wanted to shower and do a few things before coming.

Now, Niall and I were busy turning our desks into a makeshift bar, trying to come up with new cocktail concoctions to try out. Niall was currently working on something called an Irish Iced Tea --instead of a Long Island Iced Tea. It was basically the same thing, but it used a lot more liquor. Currently, the creative process wasn't going so well.

"Oh my god, Niall. Give me that," I said, grabbing the shaker as he nearly dropped it for the third time. "This is how you do it!"

I started to shake the bottle, dancing a little as I did. "Shake shake shake shake shake it!!!" I half sang, half laughed. Niall started dancing crazily next to me, shaking his arms in all directions and jumping up and down, completely off beat.

"How much have you had to drink?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Nothing, mate. I'm just naturally happy today. I got an A on my econ quiz," he said, shuffling towards me as he continued the awkward dance moves.

"Congrats, lad," I said, smiling. "Let's turn on some real music, shall we?"

Niall nodded and put on some pop rock music that he liked to listen to. "How's that?" he asked, adjusting his speakers. "Perfect," I replied, glancing at the time on my phone. It was 10:20 now. Where was Louis? 

"Don't worry mate," said Niall, sensing my anxiety. "He'll probably be here soon. If not, we can always knock on his door."

I nodded and grabbed a cup to try out the finished product of Niall's creation. "Holy shit, Ni," I cried out, holding back the urge to spit it out all over the floor. "This is too fucking strong, mate."

Niall giggled and took a sip from my cup. "Ay!" he shouted. "That'll put some hair on your chest, Haz." We both laughed and wrinkled our noses as we finished off the horrid drink.

Just as we were whipping up another, we heard a knock on the door. "Come in," I said, a little too cheerfully. Damn, get it together Haz, I thought to myself. It was just a friendly hangout... or was it?

I opened the door to find Louis wearing red skinny jeans and a black T-shirt with a grey pocket. His hair was tousled a little more than usual, falling softly above his blue eyes. He wasn't using his crutches since he only had to walk down the hall, but I could tell by the way he gripped the door frame that he was in a lot of pain. 

"Hey, Harry. Hey, Niall," Louis said, hopping towards me on one foot and handing me a bottle of tequila. 

"Damn, someone's in the mood for a wild night," Niall said, giggling and taking the bottle from me. "Thanks Louis!"

"Yeah, thanks Louis," I said, smiling at him. "You didn't have to bring anything. I told you we have plenty." 

Louis laughed as he looked around the room, taking in the way we had decorated it. On my side, there were mostly posters of musicians and football players (soccer). Niall didn't have any posters, but he had put a few framed photos of his family and friends on his desk. I was wondering what Louis thought of our room. 

"And trust your taste in liquor?" Louis said, returning his attention to me. He cocked an eyebrow at me and I felt my cheeks flush red. "Not a chance. Nice place you've got here. It's pretty big." 

"Yeah," Niall said. He opened the tequila bottle and began to take out some shot glasses. "We lucked out. It's the biggest double in the whole building, apparently." 

I nodded, but couldn't help but feel awkward with Louis in my room. I really wanted to impress him, but I felt like he was just going to find everything stupid, from my drink taste to my room decor. 

"Well, come sit, Lou," I said, pulling up a chair next to him. "I can't have you hopping around like Peter Rabbit." 

"I'm fine," Louis said quickly. "But I'll sit if it'll make you feel better." He flashed me a smile and began to sit in the chair. 

I watched him lower himself carefully in the seat, and could see him wince a little. All I wanted to do was scoop him up in my arms and hug him and make his pain go away. But I couldn't do that. Not just because Niall's in the room, but because Louis would probably kick me in the face with his bad leg before he let me cuddle him. 

"Who wants a shot?!" Niall yelled, grabbing three shotglasses filled to the brim with tequila. 

"Oh my god, Ni," I said as I took my glass. "This is a double shot glass! That's so much."

"Is it?" Louis asked. He smiled at me with those bright blue eyes and for a moment it felt like no one else was in the room. Without breaking eye contact, I moved my face closer to his and looked at his lips. 

"Cheers to-- to Louis feeling better!" Niall shouted, completely interrupting the moment. 

"Cheers!" Louis said with a smile. He tilted his head back and downed the shot in one go. Niall on the other hand, drank about half the shot and then started coughing. 

"Oh god, mate," he wheezed. "This shit is strong." 

I laughed, downing my own shot. Despite the tickling in the back of my throat, I shoved the whole thing down. Immediately, I began coughing like Niall. "Fuck," I laughed. 

"Freshers," Louis said, rolling his eyes. 

I grabbed a water bottle from my backpack and began to chug in a desperate attempt to ease the stinging pain in my throat. "Give me that mate," Niall whined. He took it from my hands, shooting the water into his mouth waterfall style. 

Louis looked at us in amusement, a smirk forming across his face. "Wow," he said. "It's gonna be a long night with you two drinking like this."


	14. The Truth Comes Out

Louis' Point of View

"Hey, Louis, you know. Tequila is my favorite drink," slurred Niall, patting my back.

Harry, Niall and I were lying on Harry's bed on our backs, staring at the ceiling and giggling over the silliest of things. The tequila bottle I had brought was nearly empty, and it was clear that Niall had consumed the most of it. But Harry and I were pretty drunk too.

 

"It wasn't when you choked on your shot a million times," I said with a smirk. Harry giggled in response and pointed a finger at Niall.

 

"You— you almost spit out your first shottt!" He said, laughing hysterically. I was in the middle between Harry and Niall, and I felt Harry's hip brush against mine as he wiggled around in a fit of laughter.

 

"Oh my god," Niall said. He was looking at his phone and shaking it all around like a mad man. "Cassie from Econ class wants to meet up. WHATDOIDO?"

 

"Ni— you have to go," I said, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "She probably wants to hook up. Like. She does. Where does she want to meet?"

 

Niall looked at me with wide eyes. "Her room, mate."

 

"Ooooohhh!!!" Harry burst out. "She's DTFFFF." He said the phrase with a valley girl accent and made smooching noises, which caused us to all start laughing hysterically.

 

Niall instantly jumped up and headed to the door--but not without wobbling a little. "I'm going mates!" He cried. "Wish me luck."

 

Two seconds after he stumbled through the door, though, he reappeared. "Forgot my shoes," Niall giggled. Harry threw a shoe at him. "Go have sex!" He shouted.

 

Niall grabbed his shoes off the floor and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Finally, Harry and I were completely alone.

 

After Niall left, we turned on our sides and looked into each other's eyes. I knew Harry was off limits for me, but my inhibitions were down from the alcohol and I honestly didn't care about consequences anymore. "Hey Harry," I said softly, looking into his blue eyes.

 

"Yeah, Lou?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling up at me.

 

"Umm... you're cute," I said quietly.

 

Harry giggled and put a hand on my shoulder. "You're cute too, Louis."

 

I smiled at him, waiting to see what he did next. His strong hand felt good on my shoulder. I didn't remove it like I probably would have sober.

 

"Thank you," Harry said, blushing. "Hey, Lou. I know you're not into me. But would you want to cuddle? A little..."

 

My face lit up. Fuck yes, I thought. But I couldn't be that desperate. "Um, yeah," I said, moving towards him. I reached out to circle my arms around him, but he grabbed me first, holding me tightly by the waist. 

 

Harry nuzzled his face into my chest and let out a small whimper. "Mmm," he said. "You feel so good." It took everything in me not to get hard. 

 

"You feel good, too," I said, burying my face in his long curls. I was so turned on I could hardly contain myself from taking his clothes off.

 

"Lou," Harry said, looking up at me with those big green eyes. He traced a circle on my hand, gingerly. "I—um. Do you mind if I—"

 

"Kiss me?" I whispered. I crawled onto Harry's chest, wrapping my legs around his, and locked eyes with him.

 

Harry didn't hesitate. He grabbed my face, pulling it towards him. When our lips connected, the feeling was electrifying. It wasn't the same feeling that I got with Zayn. I had merely felt horny when I was kissing Zayn, but with Harry, I felt like fireworks were going off all around me. His lips were tender and soft against mine, and I felt myself melting into Harry's warm embrace.

 

My tongue brushed against Harry's and he bit my lip lightly, sending a wave of euphoria down my spine. I arched my back and thrusted my hips a bit on top of his. Harry grabbed my ass and I felt him get hard beneath me. Now was my chance.

 

I tugged at the buttons on Harry's shirt, undoing them one by one to reveal his toned torso and muscular biceps. Then, I grabbed at his pants, helping him to tug them off until he was in nothing but his underwear. "You're so sexy," I growled into Harry's ear. "No you are," he said, lifting up my shirt.

 

Normally, I would feel a bit self concious upon getting undressed in front of someone else. Logically, I was definitely in shape and had nothing to worry about, but mentally, I sometimes wished I were thinner. A lot of it had to do with my eating disorder and my feelings of unworthiness following Liam. But right now, as Harry took of my clothes, I didn't care about how my thighs brushed together or my tummy had a little layer of fat on it. I was just focused on Harry, and how badly I wanted him.

 

"Mmm," Harry breathed, running a finger across my torso and shuddering. "So hot, Louis."

 

I smiled at him and we stopped kissing for a moment. "I knew since I saw you in the bathroom that first day that I wanted you," Harry said, biting his lip and running a finger through my hair.

I nodded. "Me too," I said. "But I'm, you know. Louis. So I wasn't going to express my interest."

I leaned forward and sucked on Harry's collarbone, causing him to let out a low moan. "I -- I can't believe this is happening. I'm so down for you," Harry said as he massaged my shoulders. 

 

Then he stopped touching me and frowned slightly, pausing to think about something. "Louis are you sure you want to do this?" he asked quietly. "Like will we be okay after? Will we still be friends?"

Suddenly, Harry's question had me feeling sober. I wasn't thinking of the consequences -- I didn't know how I would feel tomorrow after having sex with him. I wasn't sure how things would be between us...

 

"I--I do. But I don't know what will happen between us in the future. That's up to us," I responded, nuzzling into Harry's chest.

 

Harry nodded and tucked a loose curl behind his ear. "Well, I... I know you're very upset about something. And it makes you a little bit bitter," Harry started. "I know you're in pain, Louis."

My face instantly flushed red and I didn't answer him. How did he know my secret? I suddenly felt so vulnerable.

"I'm not, Harry," I said, wrinkling my eyebrows. "I think you're exaggerating. This is just how I am."

 

I started to pull away, but Harry grabbed my waist, rubbing my back gently as he hugged me. "You deserve love, Louis," he said quietly. "I don't know what happened. But I know that you're depressed. That you self-harm, that you try to starve yourself and overexercise. I know."

 

I looked at him with wide eyes, at a complete loss for words. I heard a sharp sound come from my mouth and then I collapsed on Harry's chest, sobbing. "I'm sorry," I sniffled, as Harry patted my back. "I'm not good enough for you. I shouldn't be here teasing you. I shouldn't do this..."

 

Harry sat up and looked me deep in the eyes, a tear streaming down his cheek. "Don't you ever say that, Louis," he growled. "You are good enough. You're perfect to me."

 

I wanted to believe him. I truly did, but I couldn't. Harry grabbed my wrist and touched it gently with his fingers, tracing the scratches I had made. Then, he moved his hands to my stomach, rubbing it softly as he knelt down to kiss it.

 

"Louis, every part of you is perfect," he said. "And I know you're in pain, but you can ask for help. You can talk about it. You don't have to do this."

 

I started to cry harder. No one had ever been so sweet to me, so perceptive of my needs or my situation. I didn't want to be hurting myself. I really didn't. I just needed a way to numb the pain.

 

"Thank you, Harry," I whispered as I tried to catch my breath after crying. "You're really sweet. I just can't believe I just ruined this moment between us. I'm so embarrassed."

 

"Ruined?" Harry said, smiling. "You haven't ruined anything. I want to get to know you first before diving into things anyways. How about a date first, yeah?"

 

I grinned. "Sure, thing, Harold," I said. And with that, he wrapped me in his arms and stroked my back until I fell asleep.

 

Hello readers! It's Christmas Eve right now where I live -- and it's probably Christmas already Christmas in some places. Merry Christmas everyone! Wishing you lots of love and Christmas cheer. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter. Louis finally took the chance to be vulnerable, and though he didn't open up fully, he didn't deny his issues which is a big step for him. For those who were hoping for a very smutty scene and full on sex, sorry to disappoint. It will definitely happen down the road, we just need to be patient. Also, my primary mental health interest is eating disorders, as it's something I've struggled with myself. But Louis has multiple mental health issues and is a pretty complex character because he's on the border of recovery and a relapse. I wanted to move away from a character being in the depths of an eating disorder and explore some different angles. What does everyone think of this?


	15. Decisions

Harry's Point of View

I wake up with a pounding in my head and a sick feeling in my stomach. Then, I realize that I'm not alone. Louis is right next to me, with his arm wrapped lazily around my waist. I cuddle up next to him, beaming at this beautiful creature who had just agreed to go on a date with me.

Louis must have felt me move because he rolled over and murmured something to himself about "five more minutes." I curled up against him, allowing him to be the little spoon and closed my eyes again for a little while, trying to ignore the light coming in through the blinds.

Suddenly, however, my tranquility was interrupted by Niall, who didn't seem to notice that we're still sleeping. "Mates, it was wonderful last night!" he gushed, slamming the door loudly.

Louis jolted up next to me in a panic. "What--what?" he looked around and noticed me sitting there next to him. Then he shot Niall a guilty look. "Um... sorry Ni. I should have asked..."

"No need," Niall replied cheerily. "You're always welcome to stay the night."

"Yeah, Louis. Don't worry I texted Niall that you were staying over," I said, giving his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "So how was it, mate?" I asked Niall. I hopped out of bed and tossed on a T-shirt. 

"It was great, Haz," Niall said, giggling a bit as he grabbed his shower supplies. "She was incredible in bed-- like damn. And she had a great ass. Best sex I've had in a while." 

I smiled at Niall, genuinely happy that he had a good time. "That's awesome, mate," I said as I gave him a high five. "Maybe it'll become a regular thing..."

"Maybe," Niall shrugged. "We shall see. How'd it go with you two -- if you don't mind me asking?" 

I looked over at Louis, who was blushing profusely. The sassy, bitter Louis I had known seemed to have disappeared.

"Not much," I replied coolly. "We just cuddled mostly. Taking things slow."

Louis laughed, but I could tell he was extremely uncomfortable. "Yeah, we were just too plastered to do too much last night. Or at least, Hazza was. We have time though," he said laughing artificially.

"Whatever you say, Lou," I replied, winking.

"Well I'm off to shower my sins away," Niall said, giggling and jumping out the door.

That left Louis and I alone again and to be honest, I was really nervous. I didn't have the same courage that I had experienced last night. And Louis, completely sober, would be much more volatile.

Without warning, Louis walked up to me and locked eyes with me, making a very serious face. "Look," he snapped. "I know what I agreed to last night, but it's not a good idea. I won't even deny it. What you said was right about me. But that's exactly the reason this won't work out. I can't be fixed, Harry. And if you keep on trying to fix me, you'll only get hurt in the process."

I took a step back and looked at him with sad eyes. He was pushing me away, but I knew he didn't mean it. I saw the way he was looking at my lips, my legs, my curls. He wanted me, he just didn't feel worthy.

"Louis," I said, letting out a deep breath. "Listen to me. Just listen. I'm an adult, Louis. I can handle myself. I'm not trying to fix you--not at all. I think you're perfect, and all I really want to do is show you how perfect you are. I care about you, and I thought you cared about me. You told me so yourself. So if you want to end this relationship before it even starts, then do it. But do it because you don't care for me. Not because you're afraid of your own insecurities."

Louis stared at me, piercing me with those deep blue eyes. He ran a finger through his hair, which was quite messed up from last night, and then shook his head fervently from left to right. "I do care," he finally said, shortly. "Alright, Harry. I care. And I'm not insecure--I'm just damaged. I've been through some stuff. I had a really negative experience with an ex. I don't want you to have to deal with that. And I'm honestly not sure I'm ready for a relationship, I'm not sure I can trust someone again..."

He trailed off, staring at the floor while he waited for me to answer. It was really incredible that Louis was sharing this with me--he was finally opening up. But I couldn't force him into a relationship if he wasn't ready.

"Okay," I said. "Okay. That makes sense. You're not ready. So what do we do? What do you want to do?"

Louis shrugged, walking towards me and wrapping his arms around my waist. I stepped back, confused as to what he was about to do. "I don't fucking know, Harry," he said softly. "But I do know that I want you... and there's no way I'm going to be able to resist..." he paused and put a hand on my crotch, squeezing it roughly. "This," he breathed.

I reached forward to kiss him, but then stopped myself. I was not about to manipulated now. "No, Louis," I said. "I want you too. Like ridiculously badly. But the whole reason we didn't do it last night was because we weren't sure if we could still be friends after. Personally, I don't think I can do friends with benefits because my feelings for you... well... they're kind of strong..."

Louis raised an eyebrow and put a hand on his hip, giving me a silly smirk. "Mr. Styles," he said. "Are you calling me irresistible?"

There he was. Louis was back. The sass was back.

"Yes, Mr. Tomlinson, I am," I replied, copying his hand-on-hip stance. "And I'm calling you smart and talented and sexy."

Louis smiled, jumping forward and thrusting himself in my arms. "Okay," he breathed, kissing me passionately. "Fuck it. Just fuck it. One date. It'll be a trial run. But I'm telling you up front that I have baggage and you're free to leave at any time."

I looked into his eyes before kissing him back. "That's not a problem," I replied. "I'll be with you every step of the way."


	16. Giving Up Control

"Today we're going to be working on perfecting our rifts," said the professor, pulling up a PowerPoint slide.

I was trying to pay attention, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn't stop imagining Harry's soft lips or sexy legs. I was currently thinking of the way he had kissed me, grabbing my jaw and running his fingers through my hair. Fuck, I thought to myself. Stop daydreaming and pay attention, Louis.

Today, I sat in the front of the classroom, far away from Zayn, who didn't deserve the time of day. I saw him scowl at me as I walked in, but I wasn't in the mood to be bothered today, so I just ignored him. He's childish, really.

But now as I sat here thinking about Harry like a giddy schoolgirl, I felt like I was the child in this situation. Shaking my head, I readjusted my notebook and began taking lecture notes as they appeared on the screen.

"Alright class," the professor said about twenty minutes later after closing the PowerPoint. "Now let's put this lesson to use. I'll play the piano. Who's going to start?"

I definitely did not want to go first. I had forgotten to eat this morning— okay, maybe I purposely didn't eat the bagel Harry had brought me— and I was feeling sort of lightheaded. But of course, it was just my fucking luck. "Louis," the professor said upon realizing that no one raised their hand. "You're in the front today. Would you like to start?"

I wanted to answer "fuck no," but obviously the professor only wanted one answer and that was yes. I nodded and walked over to the piano, butterflies forming in the pit of my empty stomach.

The professor began to play Empire State of Mind by Alicia Keys, which I didn't know too well. Panicking, I pulled up the lyrics on my phone and quickly started singing, as I had already missed a few beats.

My voice came out way stronger than expected, but still not my best. I tried to ignore it and focus on the rifts which were quickly approaching. "New York, New York, New York..." I sang.

The class looked at me in bewilderment and the professor stopped playing. Oh dear lord, how bad was I? I started to sweat.

"Mr. Tomlinson," the professor said. "How did you manage to do such a unique rift?"

I looked back at him, trying to wipe the incredulous look off my face, and began spewing some bullshit. The truth was, I had no idea, I just felt it in me and went with it. But I had to explain something fancy to the class. "Well it occurred to me while I was singing that the traditional rift is a bit too quick for the chorus, so I broke it up into longer chunks..."

The class listened in awe to my explanation and I couldn't help but smile after I went back and took my seat. Even Zayn looked pleased with me, which was a shock.

*************  
"Hey, Lou," Harry said, giving me a friendly hug as I met him in the café. We still hadn't been on our date yet since we hooked up a few days ago, and I wasn't quite sure what we were. It was sort of my fault— it was my idea to stall another week to let our feelings marinate. But in reality, I just needed some time to figure my life issues out before I got involved with someone so perfect as Harry.

"Hey, Harry," I said, following him to our table. "You'll never guess what happened in class today."   
I smiled at him, excited to share my news.

However, the look on my face turned from excited to disgusted in two seconds when I saw that Harry had already gotten us food.

"I got us both bacon-lettuce-tomato sandwiches and fries," Harry said, digging into his food. How unhealthy of a choice could be make? Seriously... I was suddenly so infuriated.

"Everything okay, Lou?" He asked innocently.  
"Um... yeah. Thank you Harry. But I was going to order my own food."

Harry nodded. "I know but you told me last night how much you used to love bacon lettuce tomato. So I wanted to surprise you." He smiled sweetly at me and I couldn't bare to disappoint him.

"You're right," I said, grabbing the sandwich. "But if I'm being honest with you, Harry, I really need to watch my figure." I dramatically struck a pose, running my hands over my torso in an attempt to explain away my perverse reaction.

"You definitely don't. You look great," Harry replied, looking me up and down with his big green eyes.

"Thanks, Harry," I said. "But I really need to be careful, since I'm on crutches and all. I haven't been able to work out like I used to... and I've gained some weight."

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know you've gained weight? I'm sure you haven't."

"I weighed myself," I said, shyly. Why the fuck was I suddenly being so honest? Oh my God, Harry had cast a fucking spell on me with those eyes. I couldn't even hide stuff from him anymore, it all just came spilling out. This seriously wasn't okay.

"Well, you shouldn't. It's not good for you. I don't weigh myself," said Harry, eating a fry.

"I know. Just a bad habit," I said, biting into my sandwich. God it was delicious. I started eating a bit too quickly.

Harry smiled as he watched me eat. "I'm glad you like it," he said, grabbing my hand across the table.

"PDA now, Mr. styles?" I asked flirtatiously.

"Why Not?" He cooed, stroking my hand.

I giggled and crunched on a fry, almost forgetting about my body insecurities.

"Also, if you're worried about not working out, we can go to the gym together. You can do just upper body. I've been needing to work out these string bean arms," Harry said with a small laugh.

I thought about Harry in the gym wearing shorts and a muscle tank and instantly felt dizzy. Those curls tucked back in a head band. Sweat dripping down his forehead. Oh my god. Fuck. I was seriously losing control.

I should have said no. I hate people watching me work out. But how could I say no to those big green eyes? "Sure, Harry. We can try. Just don't fall off the treadmill or drop a weight on your toe or anything," I said smiling. "I know how clumsy you freshers can be."

Harry nodded and rose to toss away his food, which he had completely devoured. I looked down at my food and realized I was almost finished too.

Alright, I thought to myself. I'll eat this whole meal. And I'll eat the next one. If I'm going to date Harry, I'm going to do it right, with a healthy mindset. I had to start letting go of my coping mechanisms— if not for me, for Harry. Because as much as I wanted to deny it, Harry was going to be the death of me if I couldn't have him.

********

Author's note: OMG. Little Lou is making serious progress here! Harry seems so good for him— what do you think will happen next? I'm also missing the Niall-Harry bromance. Harry's gotta make some more time for his boy... so I'll have a bit more of that in the next chapter. I'm getting a bit bored doing just Harry and just Louis POV— so there'll be a surprise soon with a new character's perspective. Who will it be?

MERRY XMAS EVERYONE ❄️ 


	17. Bros Who Lift

Harry's Point of View 

"Hey, Ni, are you ready?" I asked, grabbing my gym bag  
"Hey, Ni, are you ready?" I asked, grabbing my gym bag. Niall and I had just finished class and we were headed off to the gym together so he could teach me some exercises before my big gym day with Harry. Niall wasn't much of an expert in working out either, but he had taken some weightlifting classes a while back and I figured he knew more than I did about the sport. 

"Alright, Haz, let's goooo!" Niall said, kicking my bag in slow motion. 

"Fucking stop with the karate, Ni," I giggled. "We have to do muscle stuff. Like bicep curls and things. Please don't fool around when we get there."

Niall shot me a goofy smile and jogged in place in front of me. "Who me?" he asked dramatically. "I would never fool around."

I smacked him on the head and then walked into the hallway, waiting for him to grab his things and lock the door. 

Then, we jogged together side by side to the gym, which was about a 10 minute run from our dorm. 

"Fuck," I panted after a few minutes. "I haven't run in ages. This is torture." My lungs were burning and my legs were telling me to take a break. But I didn't feel like stopping because I would have to start over again.

"Neither have I," said Niall. "But at least you have those long legs. I can barely keep up with ya mate."

"True," I said, laughing a little. We continued running, passing a group of students with backpacks as we neared the gym building. I felt a bit embarrassed to be out in the open like this, breathing like a dog on a hot summer day with my hair looking all silly in a headband. The things I do for Louis....

Finally, Niall and I reached the two grey doors which led to the gym lobby. "Okay, workout done. Let's g home," joked Niall, turning around. 

I grabbed him by the hood of his muscle tank top and yanked him back. "Oh no you don't, Nialler," I said. 

Niall rolled his eyes and followed me into the gym, where we each scanned our ID's at the reception desk and walked upstairs to the gym area.

Once we got inside, I immediately wanted to go home like Niall had suggested. And I wasn't joking around this time. I peered over at the weights section, and everywhere I looked there were large, muscular men lifting weights, grunting, and slamming things around. Oh dear God, I thought to myself. I'm going to die.

Niall didn't seem to have my same fears, however. Without hesitating, he made his way to the benches and started taking out some weights from the rack, nearly getting hit by someone's dumbbell in the process. "Niall, watch out," I said, following after him.

"Relax," Niall said, lifting the weights and doing some bicep curls. "They're just muscle heads. If you stay out of their way, they'll stay out of yours."

"Yeah," I snapped. "But you were just in their way." I pointed over to a large, tan guy who was now shooting Niall a dirty look.

"Oh, sorry," Niall said, waving over at him and probably making the problem worse. 

"Okay, okay. Let's just get to it. What do I do?" I asked nervously, placing my bag on the bench next to me. Niall put down his weights and handed me two 20 pound weights and told me to start curling them. 

"Don't move your elbow, though, Haz," he said, watching me carefully. 

"I'm trying," I grunted. I did 10 repetitions and then put the weight down. 

"Alright, well try harder on the next one," Niall said, lifting his own weights. 

We repeated the exercise three more times, each time becoming more and more difficult for me. By the time we were done, my muscles were aching and I wanted to do was go home. But Niall told me we weren't even halfway done yet.

Grabbing my hand, he led me over to the lat pulldown machine, which is apparently for back exercises  
Grabbing my hand, he led me over to the lat pulldown machine, which is apparently for back exercises. "Okay, Harry," he said. "Watch me do it and then you try."

Niall adjusted the weight and then sat down and pulled the bar to his chest, holding it for three seconds and then raising it back up. "Bend your elbows, and arch your back a tiny bit," he instructed as he hopped off the machine. 

I sat down and looked up at the bar completely dumbfounded. Bicep curls are a basic exercise. I used to do them all the time when I was younger to try to look a bit more muscular for the summer. But I'd never touched a lat pulldown thingy. I didn't even know what we were doing. 

I grabbed the bar and tugged with all my might, but it wouldn't budge. "Alright, I'll try lowering the weight," Niall said readjusting it for me. 

This time, I tugged the bar and it came down--but not without a bit of a struggle. I tried to copy Niall's form, holding it for three seconds at my chest and releasing it back up. I got to eight repetitions this time. 

"Not bad, mate," Niall said, giving me a high five.

I rolled my eyes and shot Niall a dirty look. "I'm going to throw up and die," I said, pretending to puke all over him. But I was only half kidding - I did feel seriously nauseous and worn out.

"Good," replied Niall with a laugh. "Then I can have all your snacks in the dorm." 

Despite the physical torture, however, working out with Niall was a lot of fun. He was patient with me, and he didn't seem to judge me for not getting things on the first try. But I wasn't sure how things would go when I tried working out with Louis. I hadn't been trying to impress Niall. He was just my friend. But I knew once I saw Louis' curvy body getting hot and sweaty in the gym, I was going to seriously lose my shit and panic. 

"Ni," I said quietly, as we took a water break in between exercises. "I don't know if I can do this stuff in front of Louis. It's too much pressure. 

"It'll be fine," Niall said, slapping me on the back  
"It'll be fine," Niall said, slapping me on the back. "Just pretend you know what you're doing. Everyone was a beginner once. He'll get it."

I nodded slowly. That was true. I'm sure Louis wouldn't mind if I wasn't the perfect workout guru. I just had to try my best. And like, not fall or hurt myself. I could do that... right?

"Plus, you'll only be doing arm stuff. So it's not like you'll have to squat or anything," Niall said with a smirk. I lunged towards him, taking his water bottle and spraying it on his head. 

"Well played," I said, giggling. "You're hilarious." 

 

 

Author's note - 

THE GIFSSSSSSSSSS OMG - I had to dig the workout video clips back up lmao

A bit of a boring chapter- cute Narry bromance but not much action. Harry and Louis are going to gym together soon -- but first, we'll hear another perspective in this Larry tale. Who will it be? Liam? Zayn? Niall? The professor? You'll find out in the next one ;)


	18. Fordbidden Fruit

Zayn's Point of View 

I was sitting in music class pretending to play on my phone when Louis walked in. I still haven't spoken to him since we kissed during our duet project, and I didn't plan on it. I had a girlfriend, and though we weren't in love, we had something special. I didn't want to mess things up with her or complicate things--but Louis was making that harder than ever. 

To be clear, it's not that I was ashamed of being into men. I had known I was bisexual for a while, and though I was never super vocal about it, I've had my fair share of gay experiences. But with Louis, it was different than it had been with the others. With Louis I felt something. And it wasn't just his looks that got me fired up. It was his voice--his beautiful voice-- and the way he spoke and his sassy personality and his fiery temper. Louis was a whole different kind of guy I had never seen before, and the more we had texted about the duet project, the more attracted to him I began to feel.

During the duet, I was honestly surprised I made it through the whole thing without passing out. The whole time I had felt dizzy with lust and desire. Every time I looked at Louis' ass in his skinny jeans or glanced at his crystal blue eyes or listened to his soulful little voice, I felt shivers down my spine. Louis was incredible, and I couldn't get him out of my head. 

I was so jittery when he asked to work with me, in fact, that I was nearly an hour late getting to his room. I just physically couldn't bring myself to go because I was so god damn nervous about what I would do in a room alone with him. I just knew that I wouldn't be strong enough to make it through the duet session without wanting to get physical with Louis. 

And sure enough, I didn't. As soon as we were done, I fucking kissed him. Without even thinking, I just grabbed him and kissed him like a fucking idiot. And to my genuine surprise, he was down for it. He started undressing me--and that's when I realized I had to stop. Because I shouldn't want this, I shouldn't have feelings for Louis. Guys had always been a fun experiment for me--but I belonged with my girlfriend. Didn't I?

After that, I was angry at Louis for tempting me so much and for causing me to doubt my current relationship. I had been doing so well lately, and now I had a whole bunch of things to sort out in my head regarding my sexuality, my preferences, my love life. I didn't need the stress right now and though it technically wasn't his fault for being so attractive and enticing, I blamed him. 

Now, as I saw him walk in, my heart started to beat faster and I fidgeted in my seat. He was still on crutches-- not sure what happened -- and he was wearing denim skinny jeans with while converse sneakers and a black Tshirt with a frowny face on it. His chestnut hair was quaffed at the top -- trying out a new hairstyle I see-- and his blue eyes twinkled a bit in the sunlight that was entering through the window. 

Louis Tomlinson, I thought to myself, trying to hide my obvious attraction. You're fucking killing me. 

 

Author's note: Ohhhhh what you think? Zayn caught some feels!


	19. It's Hot in Here

Louis' Point of View 

"Hey, Haz. You ready for the best workout of your life?" I asked. I was standing outside of Harry's room with my crutches, wearing black Adidas shorts with a white T-shirt and purple vans. I knocked on the door a second time. 

"Harry?!" I yelled. I heard something rustle, and then Harry opened the door, hopping out in black joggers and a light blue muscle tank. His curly hair was held back in a black headband. 

"Someone looks ready for the gym," I said, raising an eyebrow and walking towards him. He hugged me, his exposed biceps lingering on my back. I moved my face close to his and smiled. 

Harry bit his lip. "Nice to see you, Lou," he said quietly, his big green eyes widening. "Can I ask you how we've managed to plan our workout together before we've planned our date together? I-- I have half a mind to just take you into my room and take off all those gym clothes and have a workout of our own."

"Damnnnnn," I said, laughing and opening up my eyes super wide. Harry instantly turned red, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I shouldn't have said that," he said as he shook his head. 

"Shhhh," I replied, wrapping an arm around his waist. "It's okay, Hazza. I feel the same way about you. But trust me -- it'll be worth the wait."

Harry seemed to feel more relaxed after he realized we were on the same page, and I watched as a small smile crept across his lips and he released the tension from his shoulders. He leaned towards me, but I put a finger to his lips before he could kiss me. 

"Come on, Harry," I said, trying to hide the boner that was forming in my shorts. "We have a hot date with the gym."

Harry nodded and the two of us walked to the elevator. "How was your day, Lou?" Harry asked. "Music going well, yeah?"

I nodded. "Surprisingly, yeah. Exams coming up soon though. Those will be the bloody death of me," I said, pretending to shudder. 

"Same," Harry said. "Ni and I are absolutely freaking out. We've never taken uni exams before."

I smiled at Harry. He was so innocent, so young. "Yeah, but you'll do fine. First test is a trial run. You'll improve on the second and third ones. Trust me, it takes time to get used to but you'll get it," I assured him. "Or you won't. And you'll fail and have to drop out and then I'll take you and Niall's room and live there for the rest of the year." 

"Fuck off," Harry replied, giggling at my antics. The elevator doors opened and we hopped out, heading to the building exit. 

"I'm so damn slow with these fucking crutches," I moaned after taking a few steps. "I feel like an old lady."

"Mrs. Tomlinson," Harry croaked in his best elderly woman impression. "Are you done knitting my sweater?" He hunched over and pretended he was using a walker to walk alongside me. 

"Oh my god, Hazza. I'm going to kill you," I laughed. 

"I can always carry you again," Harry said, moving his hands towards my torso and raising an eyebrow.

"Absolutely fucking not, you ass!" I screamed. I started hopping away from him on my crutches. 

Harry chased after me and blocked my path, nearly causing me to face plant. I stuck my tongue out at Harry and pushed him gently, moving past him and continuing down the street. 

********************************************************************************

"Okay, I am in shit shape compared to you," Harry said, giggling as I lifted 130 pounds on the lat pull down machine. He could barely do 90. 

"It's okay Haz. We all know freshers are a weak species," I scoffed. Harry didn't laugh, though, and I looked over to see that he was genuinely frustrated. 

"Hey, Harry," I said, finishing my set and letting down the weight. "Are you actually upset? We can talk about it."

I grabbed my crutches and hobbled over to him. Harry, who was sitting on a nearby bench, laughed and smiled up at me. "No, I'm fine," he said. "It's just. To be honest, I was so nervous about embarrassing myself in front of you that I did a practice gym session with Niall. But I'm still no good..."

That was honestly so fucking adorable. I instantly wanted to pick Harry up and shower him with kisses and play with his curls for hours. But obviously, I couldn't. Not yet at least...

"Haz," I said, taking a seat next to him. "That is simultaneously the sweetest and silliest thing anyone has ever done for me. I'm touched."

Harry smiled and shifted his weight awkwardly on the bench. "Thanks," he giggled. 

"Yeah, and you know I'm going to make fun of you no matter what, Mr. Styles," I said with a smirk. "So there's no need to practice for anything. And just for the record, your form is great. You have nothing to worry about."

Harry's face lit up as I said that and I could tell he really wanted to impress me. Typical fresher, always wanting to go above and beyond. 

"Okay, let's do one more exercise and then we'll go home," I said, crutching over to the pull-up bar. 

"Alright Harry, so if you don't mind, just make sure I don't put any pressure on that leg when I jump down," I said, as I climbed up to the bar. I lifted myself up and cranked out 9 pull-ups, attempting a tenth but failing. 

Harry caught me just before I slammed down my bad leg. I guess I was so distracted by the workout that I had forgotten about my injury for a split second. "Babe, are you okay?" Harry asked, worriedly, helping me down. 

"I -- yeah," I stuttered. "What did you just call me?" 

Harry blushed again, but then turned towards me. "I'm sorry Louis -- I know it's too soon... It just slipped out..."

"It's okay," I replied, taking a step closer to him. "I don't mind one bit."

Without hesitating, I grabbed his face and kissed him. "Your turn for pull-ups, babe," I said, releasing him from my grip and beaming at him. 

Harry jumped up onto the pull-up bar and wiggled his butt at me before jumping up and doing 7 pull-ups. 

"Louis," he said, after he jumped down. 

"Yes, my little fresher?" I asked, climbing up to do more pull-ups.

"You're incredible," he said, smiling wider than I'd ever seen him before. "But stop with the god damn fucking fresher you prick." 

I giggled at him. "Never."

***************************************

Author's note:

Yo.... this was so sweet. Everything is going really well-- time to add some drama to the mix. Dun... dun... dunnnn. Keep in mind that Liam and Zayn are still lurking. I almost decided to make Liam come into the gym during this scene, but decided against it. It was too precious of a moment. 

What should come next? Harry and Louis obviously have to make love. Duh. But there's a lot more Louis has left to share with Harry... and perhaps Harry has some secrets of his own. 

Louis can't run from Liam forever-- and he's bound to run into him again. What is he gonna do? And what about Zayn? Haha-- I just realized Louis has hooked up with every band mate except Niall.... Damn Lou. Get it. Plus he has Zayn and Harry after him.... Wow...

We shall see. I'm writing this thing really fast because it's my first serious fan fic and I'm getting really into it. Plus, I'm on vacation for a month from uni and have nothing to do. Gonna keep on cranking these chapters out. Feedback is always much appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	20. Secrets

Harry's Point of View

"Hey, Lou," I said. We were sitting down under the stars in the park next to our dorm. It was just about half past 9 and it was quiet, with nothing but the fall breeze gently rustling the leaves.

Lou had his arm wrapped around my shoulder as he looked up at the moon, which was full tonight. I kissed him on the head gently.

"Lou, how are you feeling?" I asked hesitantly. Louis looked up at me and lazily responded: "I'm fine. Leg is almost better. Back feels mostly better."

But I shot him a suspicious look that told him that's not what I meant. "How do you really feel?" I asked, stroking his hand.

"Haz," he whined. "Why do I have to tell you my god damn life story before you fuck me? Do you do this with all your dates?"

I smiled at him. "Only the ones I care about."

Louis and I had just finished dinner at an Italian restaurant nearby. I had ordered lasagna and he got chicken Parmesan. We both had two glasses of wine.

The dinner had gone way better than I expected. After our workout yesterday, I felt nervous about being around Louis. There was so much built up sexual tension, so much pent up desire. But the date had been calm and relaxing. Louis looked gorgeous in his black skinny jeans and fitted leather jacket. He had on these cute little high tops too which I found adorable. And his company was wonderful— Louis spent most of the evening telling me about his classes, throwing in his typical sassy commentary and poking fun at his professor. I giggled at his jokes and tried to tell a few of my own— but not without Louis interjecting to add something even sassier.

In terms of my outfit, I had played it safe, going with a light blue button down shirt and some black skinny jeans and boots. It was my go to outfit for semi formal occasions.

But even though I was thoroughly enjoying my time with Louis, I couldn't help but notice how much trouble Louis had eating. He only finished about half the dish, and even that looked painful for him. But I didn't want to bring it up at dinner and spoil the moment.

Now, as we sat in the park, I tried to coax Louis into opening up. I wanted him to know I wasn't accusing him of anything. I just wanted to understand.

"So how do you really feel, Lou?" I asked, looking him in the eye. "I saw you had trouble eating, Love. Should I be worried or are you okay?"

Louis looked back at me with his lips pursed. "I'm... I could be doing better," he answered softly. "I've been keeping it down. But I just haven't been having a lot. And I've been doing a lot of sit-ups in my room. Like hundreds."

I nodded, putting my hand on his shoulder. "Okay. So we can work on that. Thanks for telling me Lou. Is there anything else?"

Louis looked at the ground, tracing circles on my fingers. "I— Harry, you don't want to deal with this," he said. "You don't want this..."

"I do want this," I interjected. I kissed his cheek softly and continued the question before he interrupted again. "Thank you for being so honest with me. Is there something else?"

Louis nodded. "I... cut a bit," he said quietly.

My eyes widened and I tried not to express my pain, but it must have showed because Louis ripped his hand away from mine. "I'm hurting you. I'm fucking hurting you and messing this all up," he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. "Fuck. I can't do anything right! No wonder Liam got rid of me."

I stopped up and pulled Louis tightly to my chest. "Don't you ever say that," I growled into his ears. It was quite obvious that Liam was his ex, and I was furious that Louis had said something like that. "He was a jerk and you fucking know it and he never deserved you. Whatever he did to you, however he treated you. That was wrong. You do not deserve that."

Louis didn't respond. "Look at me, god damn it!" I said. Louis and I locked eyes and he started to cry, pulling away from me once again.

"Louis, I'll take you home if you want. But I'm not the enemy here. I'm showing you..." I said. "Showing you..." I repeated, scooping him up bridal style. "That you're fucking amazing. That you're worth waiting for. That I'm here to listen to everything. Every god damn thing. No matter how deep or dark. Because god damn it I might fucking be in love with you."

Louis stared at me in disbelief, tears streaming down his face. I sat down on the bench and rocked him back and forth. "Tell me," I cooed. "Tell me what he did to you."

And Louis told me. He told me everything. He told me about Tinder and the rape accusation and the self harm and rehab and everything in between. He told me about the suicide attempt and his meaningless hookups and how he used to starve for days. And I sat there and listened to it all. Tears streaming and stomach churning, I listened to every painful story, every vulnerable moment. And I suddenly began to feel more connected to Louis than ever. He was opening up to me— finally. That, more than anything, showed me that he truly cared.

"Harry," Louis said, sniffling after he finished his story about Liam. I stroked his back and kissed him on the forehead.

"Yes, Love?" I whispered. "Well," he started. "I feel so fucking pathetic— but I also feel a lot better. You're the first person I've told all this to— like ever."

"I'm so glad," I cooed, rubbing his back. "Thank you so much for trusting me and telling me. I can't imagine what you've gone through, Lou. You are so incredibly strong. You're amazing."

Louis nodded and closed his eyes, which had dark circles underneath. He looked exhausted, perhaps drained from sharing so much with me.

"Babe, you really are incredible. You bounced back after all that— even though you've had your struggles and you still struggle, you're doing so much better. And I want to help you feel even better now. I want to show you that Liam was wrong about you. That you're worth a million times more than what he'll ever deserve," I told him, connecting my green eyes with his blue ones.

"Thanks, Harry," he said, cuddling against my chest. "That means so much to me, really."

"Of course," I replied. "But Lou, I'm gonna have to ask you to try and eat more for me though. My sister had anorexia and she got very ill very fast. I just want you to be healthy."

Louis nodded. "I know I have to eat more," he said. "I'll eat what you give me from now on, Haz."

I smiled, excited that he was going to make more of an effort to look out for himself. "And if you ever feel the urge to cut or over exercise or anything, call me. Or come to the room. Or text Niall. We're always here to help."

Louis smiled and buried his head into my lap. I tickled his neck and he giggled a little, climbing further up my chest.

"Harry?" He asked me. He seemed more confident than before. "Are you happy that you figured me out?"

I kissed his cheek. "More than happy," I replied.

Louis kissed me tenderly and then pulled back to look at my face. "Me too," he said. "Me too."

Author's note: ahhhh awwwwwwwsw. I don't even know what happened but they had their date and then this just felt natural. Louis finally did it!!!!


	21. Finally

Louis' Point of View

"Fuck, Harry," I breathed. He held me against the wall, half dressed, and attacked my collarbone with kisses. We had just gotten home from our date, and we had barely made it to my room without hooking up in the hallway.

When Harry was finished adorning my neck with hickies, I grabbed his jaw gently and pulled his face closer to mine, kissing him passionately as I ran my fingers through his soft hair. Harry grabbed my ass roughly and then began to scoop me up in his arms. I wrapped my legs around him and let him carry me to the bed as we continued to kiss.

"Get that shirt off, Haz," I growled, tugging at Harry's collared shirt as I kissed him. Harry held up his arms and allowed me to remove the shirt, unbuttoning each button one by one. My shirt was already off--Harry had ripped it off and thrown it on the floor as soon as we got in my room-- but we both were still wearing our pants.

Harry gave me a sexy grin and then began planting a trail of kisses down my torso, starting with my chest and ending just below my belly button. I shuddered with pleasure as he electrified me with his hot, wet kisses.

Once Harry reached my stomach, he smiled up at me and began tugging at my jeans, cupping the bulge in my pants as he unbuttoned my pants. I swung my legs up and allowed him to remove my pants and underwear, throwing them aside in frenzy. Harry immediately straddled me and gripped my dick with his strong hands. He slowly brought it to his mouth and began to suck, swirling it around against the inside of his lips and then suctioning my shaft with his long tongue.

"Fuckkk," I moaned. I tugged at his curls as he blew me, wiggling with pleasure on the bed. Harry continued to suck, harder and faster until I felt ready to come. "Haz!" I cried. "Get off. Let me do something for you."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at me from between my legs and removed his mouth from my dick. "Okay," he said. He stood up and slipped his pants and boxers off, then rejoined me on the bed.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, crawling onto my chest. His lean legs intertwined with mine and without thinking, I cupped his ass with both hands as he rested on top of me. "Ever been bottom before?" I asked, smirking.

Harry's big green eyes lit up and he grinned at me. "Mr. Tomlinson," he said in a low, sexy tone. "You don't strike me as a top."

Harry wrapped his arms around my shoulders and began gyrating his hips on top of me, our dicks gently brushing against each other as he created friction. "I do both," I replied with a smirk as I reached for his dick.

Harry got on his knees and let me jerk him off a bit, my hand firmly tugging up and down along his firm shaft. Harry had a sizable package-- his dick was long and solid, probably 8 inches in total. On second thought... maybe he should be top... I thought.

But no, I was going to ride Harry if it was the last thing I did in my whole life. I hopped up off the bed to grab some lube, nearly knocking over all my books as I searched frantically through my drawer.

When I returned to the bed, Harry was on all fours, wiggling his bum at me and giggling. "Oh my god," I said, rolling my eyes. "Harold."

I climbed onto the bed behind him, putting my hand on the small of his back with one hand and slowly penetrating him with my finger with the other hand. Harry moaned lowly and arched his back in response.

After a few more seconds, I slipped in a second finger and then a third, massaging the lube into his hole and then hooking my fingers to hit his G-spot. I watched as Harry closed his eyes and threw his head back in pleasure. "Ohhh," Harry moaned. He bit his lip, his wild curls flailing, and I felt hard-pressed not to come at the sight of his beautiful O-face.

"Fuck me, Louis," he whispered, as I continued to finger him. He reached back and pushed my hand away. "Need you inside me," he panted. "Fuck."

"Alright, Harry," I said, grabbing his waist and readying myself. As I moved my cock towards his ass, I felt my heartbeat getting faster and my breathing becoming shallower and shallower... and shallower...

At first I thought it was because of how turned on I had been. But when I started feeling dizzy, I realized it was probably a panic attack. I was panicking because the last time I had ridden someone I had truly cared about was when I rode Liam.

Fuck, I thought to myself. I can't fucking ruin this moment. I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing. Harry instantly noticed what was going on and wheeled around to face me. "You okay, Lou?" he asked, rubbing my back.

I nodded slowly, but my face told it all. "Lou," he said, reaching for a hug. "What's wrong? Did I do something to upset you?"

I shook my head, tears flowing. "No.. No you're perfect," I told him, sinking my head into his shoulder. "It's just. The last time I topped someone I seriously liked was.. Liam."

Harry's eyes widened and he nodded understandingly. "Well it's okay, we don't have to continue if you're not ready."

I shook my head furiously. "Absolutely fucking not. I won't let him ruin this," I said, trying to regain my composure.

"Harry, let's try. I want to. Don't you?" I asked. I grabbed him by the hips and inched my pelvis closer. Harry nodded eagerly. "Yeah," he said. "I'm so hot for you. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Well, I'm okay," I said, giving his ass a slap. "Now get on your knees."

Harry shot me another sexy smile and did as he was told. This time, instead of panicking, I firmly gripped him by the waist and slowly slid my dick into him. I felt Harry shake a bit as I entered, and then I began thrusting quickly.

"You. Feel. Amazing," I said, closing my eyes as I rode him. Harry moaned loudly and then slammed back on my dick, sending me into a complete euphoria. "Fuck," I moaned. "Do that again, Haz."

Harry looked back at me with a furrowed brow and slammed into my again. I moaned in pleasure and started to fuck him harder, sweat dripping down my face as I thrusted. Harry was sweaty too--his strong chest was glistening with sweat and some of his curls were starting to get wet and plaster to his neck.

"Ahhh," Harry choked, making a strangled sound. "I'm coming." Within seconds, he closed his eyes and grabbed his dick, which released a white stream of cum. In awe, I thrusted into him one last time, throwing my head back and moaning wildly. I pulled out and fell onto the bed, cumming seconds after Harry finished.

"Oh my god, Lou," Harry said, collapsing on my chest a few seconds later. "You were fucking amazing"

Author's note:

oh my god. so they did it!! I'm not the best at writing these since I don't have anal sex and have to just go based on reading other fan fics and imagination. What did you think?


	22. Pancakes

Harry's Point of View

I woke up the next morning with Louis on my chest... and oh my god I wanted to cry tears of joy right then and there. The past week has been a complete whirlwind— from asking Louis out on a date to going to the gym to going on the real date to the aftermath of the real date....

Louis was more complex than I could have ever imagined. Everything about him, both mental and physical, made me crave him even more. His perfectly tousled hair. His big blue eyes. His sassy attitude. And his resilience— his strength — his vulnerability. The Louis I had met just a few weeks ago would never have told me a single thing about his family let alone his traumatic past. I was so damn proud of him for finally letting go and trusting me with his personal life — and with his heart.

Speaking of hearts.... I wasn't about to drop the L word just yet, but I was so there. Louis was absolutely everything I wanted... everything I needed. Some people might try to run from Louis because of his baggage, but I loved him more for it. And I was willing to do whatever it took to keep him in a healthy mindset. I had to protect him—not just from Liam, but from himself. I didn't want to see another scratch on that perfect skin of his ever again...

"Harry," Louis croaked, interrupting my thoughts. I could tell by his puffy, half closed eyes that he had just woken up. "Are you having an internal monologue?"

I laughed and rolled my eyes, snuggling into Louis so I could be the big spoon. "Fuck off, Tommo," I said. "You ain't no mind reader."

Louis rolled over to face me, his bare legs rubbing against mine. "Ain't? Wow. Mr. Wild West over here," he snickered. "But I don't know, you just had this look in your eyes, like you were off in LaLa land or something."

I giggled and ran my hands through my hair, which was definitely very messed up from last night. "I was," I replied quietly. "I was thinking about us."

Louis smiled and kissed my cheek sweetly, finally simmering his sassy temper down a bit. "I'm happy too. That this whole date thing worked out," he replied as he traced circles on my shoulder. "And sorry about not eating much. Like I told you last night, I have to work harder."

I grabbed his waist and looked deeply in the eyes. "Shhh, don't apologize. You're doing great," I cooed. "Louis, you know you don't need to diet, right?"

Louis smirked. "Of course I don't. I'm sexier than a super model," he said. He rolled his eyes and wiggled his hips under the covers, pretending to be some sort of sex symbol. Although, in my book, he already was one....

"But yeah, I mean. It's less about looks and more about the concept of 'deserving food.' I feel guilty eating some days— like when I get a bad grade or don't work out hard enough. It's stupid. I know. I also hate gaining weight..." He paused and patted his stomach. "150 is a good number for me. It's healthy, but I'm still lean. Don't like to veer too far from it."

I nodded, a bit interested in his way of thinking. Gemma had a very different mindset— she feared weight gain and food in general. She thought it would make her fat and that starving was the only answer. But Louis seemed to use food as reward and punishment, allowing himself to eat when he 'deserved it' and denying himself food when he didn't.

"Love, you don't have to earn your food. You always deserve to eat," I said, rising up to grab my phone. "Speaking of eating, let's order some fucking pancakes. I'm starving."

I looked over at Louis, who was now hugging a pillow and going back to sleep. "You can't avoid breakfast, Tommo. Have half a pancake. I'm just asking you to try, that's all."

Louis got up and jumped towards me with wide eyes. He put his hands on my shoulders and started making zombie noises.

"Must. Kill. Harold," he groaned in a creepy voice. "Cuteness overload. Get. Me. Extra. Syrup."

I tackled Louis and threw him back onto the bed. "I fucking Love you," I said.

Did I just say that???...... FUCK.   
***********************   
Authors note: as I proofed this I was like it's the morning after— where is nialler wut. But then I remembered they're in Louis' room and he doesn't have a roommate. So sorry if I confused you too. Also— ahhhh feels. They're so cute. This relationship is so good. I love how gentle and caring Harry is with Louis— but I'm also not trying to make Louis - full on needy baby, like he still has his sass and strength — he just fucked Harry for God's sake. It's an interesting balance between ferocity and vulnerability as he breaks down his walls....

But yeah things are going so well.....I just have to add some drama and conflict now. There will be a character reappearance pretty soon and who knows what that will bring. Who will it be — Liam? Zayn? Both?

gotta find out!!!


	23. Trouble

Louis POV  
"Alright class, hand in your videos no later than Wednesday of next week," the professor said, stacking his papers to indicate the end of class. 

I felt myself getting nervous at the thought of having to record another video of myself to share with the class. They seemed to have really liked the last video I made, but that was probably just because Zayn was in it with me. I wasn't sure that the class would enjoy a video of me by myself just as much....

"Hey, wait up," I heard a voice call as I left class. I wasn't on crutches anymore so I didn't have trouble knocking into tables and getting through doorways this time. As I began to recognize the voice, I spun around on my heel to face my classmate. Who the fuck did he think he was?

Zayn was staring at me with big brown eyes, shooting me a half smile as he stood in the hallway with his books. "What do you want?" I snapped, not in the mood for his rudeness today. I had enough to worry about between the stress of this class and my schoolwork and my new boyfriend.... If Zayn knew what was good for him, he would really just leave me alone.

"I um, I wanted to apologize about how we left things," he said quietly as he played with a bracelet on his wrist. Classic, rude Zayn, avoiding eye contact as he spoke to me. 

"Well thank you," I said shortly. "Now if that's all..." I turned to leave, but Zayn grabbed my shoulder again and looked at me in the eyes. 

"No. I mean I'm really sorry. I've known I was bi for a while--but I've never felt that way about a guy before. You know, that intensely. And I have a girlfriend and I was scared to mess things up," he explained. I looked down at his hands, which were grasping his books so hard his fingers were turning white. 

Wow, what the fuck, I thought to myself. Zayn had caught feels for me? I was finding this really hard to believe. Maybe it was some sort of scheme to embarrass me.... just like Liam had done to me not too long ago. 

"Louis, why are you making that face?" Zayn asked as he wrinkled his brow. As witty as I was, I had no control over my facial expressions. Even when I thought I was hiding my true feelings , the look on my face was always quite obvious. That's why Harry could so easily tell when I wasn't in the mood to eat. He said I usually had a look on my face equivalent to that of a person smelling a dirty diaper. This moment wasn't all that different. 

"I said it's alright, Zayn. No need to explain," I said, walking down the hall. He followed after me, his long legs outpacing mine. "But Lou... I've just been trying to figure things out. And now I have. I think I'd like to start over and try again." 

Instantly, I grabbed Zayn's shoulders and pushed him against the wall, furious. I could tell I probably looked crazy, but I didn't care. My heart was pounding and my face was twisted into a serious frown. 

"Listen to me," I said in a low tone. "I've had my share of guys like you, who aren't fully out or haven't fully sorted out their sexuality. I don't need that in my life. I'm not here just waiting around for you to decide you want me. Or for me to provide you with some sort of pleasure you never got from your girlfriend. I'm dating someone right now. So I appreciate your apology, but I'd prefer if from this point forward, you'd leave me the fuck alone."

Zayn's shoulders shook beneath my grip and he nodded, weakly. I saw tears forming in his eyes and sort of felt guilty for a moment. Maybe he wasn't another Liam, but he sure as hell wasn't a Harry. I wasn't going to jeopardize my relationship with the greatest guy in my life just to have 15 minutes of pleasure with some sexy pop rock singer with dark hair and a killer smile.....

Fuck.

Zayn pulled out of my grip and started to walk down the opposite side of the hallway. "Fuck you, Tomlinson," he spat over his shoulder. 

"Thank you, Malik," I replied, flashing him a toothy grin. 

He can fucking rot in hell.


	24. Chaos

Oh dear god, I'm nervous, I thought as I walked into the library. I had a midterm exam in two days and I was about to attend a study group with one of my TAs to go over the material.

I scanned my ID at the desk and walked past the entrance to a conference room in the back of the library. Everywhere I looked people were frantically studying, typing up papers and occasionally, browsing through Facebook.

The knot in my stomach got tighter as I walked into the tutoring room, which was a large glass room with a round table, and realized that there was only one other student inside aside from the TA.

I carefully opened the door and took a seat next to the other student. "Hi, I'm Cassie," she said. "Harry," I replied quietly. I had been hoping there would be a large group today so I could sort of blend into the back, but it looked like I would be getting plenty of attention today.

"Hello, I'm Kelly, your TA," the other girl said, standing up to write some music notes on the board. "This should only be about an hour. Let me know what specific questions you have for the exam and we can work through them."

I nodded, leafing through my notebook to find questions. "Can we go over complex music theory?" I asked. Kelly nodded and took out the textbook to look over the chapter.

The lesson went well. Kelly was a good teacher and I felt like I understood the material a lot more when she explained it than when the professor did. But halfway through the session— at about 11:30 — another guy walked into the tutoring session.

"Oh, thank god," Kelly said, grabbing her books. "Sorry - I have a meeting now, so Liam is gonna take over. He's a TA for a different group. Same class."

Liam stood up and walked over to the board. I looked him up and down. He had brown hair and soft brown eyes, with a large build and strong shoulders.

"Hey guys," he said, clicking open a marker. "So what do you want to cover next?" I almost gasped out loud when I heard his British accent. Oh my god. Another one of us!

"Writing formulas," said Cassie, raising her hand shyly.

Liam laughed, his eyes crinkling a bit at the edges. "No need to raise your hand. There's only three of us here. What's your name?"

She told him, and then Liam asked for my name. "Harry," I said. He smiled at me. "Well hello, Harry. Are you both freshers?" We nodded.

"Where are you from?" I asked, almost in awe. "Wolverhampton," he said. "You?"

"Redditch," I replied. "I have a friend who goes to Uni near Wolverhampton."

"Small world," Liam said, laughing. I laughed back. "Suppose so," I replied.

Liam continued on with the lesson, working on the formulas like Cassie had requested. I heard my phone buzzing in my backpack. I ignored it, but it buzzed a second time. And then a few minutes later, it buzzed it again.

"Excuse me a second," I said stepping out.

I walked out of the glass room and answered the phone, walking towards the lobby. "Hey Louis, can I call you back?" I said. "I'm at a review session."

I heard heavy breathing on the other line. "What the fuck... are you doing... with Liam?" Something seemed odd because I could both hear on the phone and within the room.   
I quickly whirled around to find Louis in the lobby— holding his phone and screaming into it.

My heart started beating quickly and I pulled my phone away from my ear, running up to Louis, who was throwing a tantrum in the middle of the lobby.

"What?" I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder. "That's Liam? That's my TA. I signed up for tutoring with my TA Kelly but she had to leave and this other TA took over.... his name was Liam but I didn't know it was that Liam..." I blurted out, trying to explain myself before Louis got even more hysterical.

As I looked up at him, he looked worse than I had ever seen him. His eyes were bloodshot and he was pale as a ghost, shaking a bit in his black skinny jeans. I hugged him. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea," I said rubbing his back.

But Louis didn't want my sympathy. He pushed me away from him, sending me crashing into the plastic entrance gates. "Get the fuck away from me," he spat. "You're fucking disgusting."

I felt my face get hot as a tear streamed down my eye. "Louis. I said I'm sorry. I know you're upset but this is not my fault," I said coolly, trying my hardest to control the situation.

"You saw him in the caf that day with Niall. You fucking knew it was him. You know what he looks like. You planned this..." he choked. People were starting to stare at as, so I got back on my feet and walked over the Louis, gently motioning for him to walk towards the doors with me.

"Louis, I saw him for two seconds. How would I remember his face? I'm sorry, okay," I repeated. "I'll go get my stuff and leave now. Seriously, I want nothing to do with him."

Louis looked at me with tears in his icy blue eyes eyes, his shoulders tensed and hands balled up in fists. He leaned towards me, coming inches away from my face. "You said that you loved me and you do this?" He growled. "Get the fuck out of here, Styles. You're just like him. We're over."

And with one swift motion, he lunged forward and punched me in the face.

As soon as his fist connected with my face, I crumbled to the ground, feeling the pain spread across my face. I gripped my mouth, which was now gushing blood on the tile floor, and stared up at Louis.

Louis was standing over me, breathing heavily and glaring at me. He gave me one last look and then stormed off, shaking the hand he had punched me with.

Suddenly, as I watched Louis leave, I felt a hand helping me up. I figured it was some bystander who had seen the whole thing go down. But when I turned around, I saw who it really was.

It was Liam. "Are you Okay?" He asked, frowning at me with a pouty lip. "We saw it happen through the glass room."

I stared at him, completely disgusted. "Well get up now," Liam insisted. "I heard that guy is a real animal. I wouldn't worry about him."

I grabbed his hand and allowed him to help me up. Then I kneed him in the crotch as hard as I could. Liam fell to the ground, writhing in pain. "Fuck off, prick," I growled. "I know what you did to Louis. You're fucking pathetic." And with that, I strutted through the library and grabbed my books from the tutoring room.

Then I left, running as fast as I could before the public safety officers could come for me.


	25. Dizzy

Louis' POV

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I dragged myself up off the floor, using the toilet seat to help leverage myself. After throwing up six times, my vision was starting to blur and my legs felt weak.

But I couldn't stay in here much longer... Harry could come in at any time and then I would lose my shit even more.

Shaking, I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled out of the bathroom stall. As I walked out, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and cringed. I was so fucking disgusting. No wonder everyone hated me...

When I entered my room, I immediately collapsed on my bed and began sobbing into my pillow. All I really wanted was someone to comfort me, to tell me everything would be okay. But there wasn't a single person I could trust at this school... or in life really.

I stared at my phone, my head rushing with a million and one ways to hurt myself, and began shaking. What the fuck was wrong me with me that I was so unlovable? That Harry, my own boyfriend, would rather spend time with my fucking toxic ex than me? Why could nothing ever go right for me? Why was I like this?

As I thought about what had just transpired in the library, I felt like I wanted to be sick all over again. But my stomach ached and my throat stung with acid. I knew there was nothing left in my stomach at this point— during my final purge, I had thrown up nothing but blood and bile.

Unable to deal with the pain sober, I hopped out of bed and took out a bottle of vodka from my closet. I began to chug it straight from the bottle, ignoring the burning in my throat as I tried to drown my pain in the clear, potent substance.

A few minutes and half a bottle later, my skin felt warm and I started to feel better. I giggled a bit as I knocked into my desk, my mind growing fuzzy. "Fuck Harry," I murmured to myself. "He was the worst boyfriend ever."

I opened my phone and looked through my contacts, thinking of who I should text. Fuck Harry for what he did to me. Fuck Niall for being associated with Harry. Fuck my shit head fake friends from first year. Fuck Zayn for being a dick....

Zayn. Dick. Zayn's Dick. Hmm... didn't that sound good right about now? I hovered my finger over his contact and contemplated sending him a text.

Fuck it, I thought. Who cares if he didn't answer. I'd just send a quick text.

I typed out my text to him:

Hey. Thought about what you said. Want to come over and talk?

I smiled and giggled at my wittiness. If I typed out a drunk booty call in the middle of the day on a Saturday, Zayn would never respond. But if I pretended I was accepting his apology and wanted to have a discussion, he would probably come running over.

I waited a few minutes, compulsively checking my phone as I awaited his response. I decided to eat some cereal while I was waiting — completely undoing the purging I had just put myself through a few minutes ago.

Snacking mindlessly, I jumped back onto my bed and started playing a video game on my phone for a bit. Lol what are video games even? Like who makes them? I wondered.

Fuck. It had been 20 minutes and god damn Zayn hadn't answered. Like why... why did he have to be that way?

Sighing, I rolled over in my bed and started to doze off. It was just so warm, so soft. Kind of like Harry. But no more Harry... not anymore.

I cried a little, thinking of how he was gone forever. Because of me. But he deserved it. He wanted to hang out with Liam. And Liam was so evil and....

*******************************************  
I woke up to the sound of a knock at the door. My head swimming, I stumbled towards it, grabbing a water bottle to wash the alcohol taste out of my mouth.

Then, I slicked back my hair and slapped my face a cheeks a bit. I wanted to appear less pale and sickly than I actually was.

Keep it together, Lou, I told myself. You're fine. You're absolutely fine.

I opened the door slowly and then stood in the doorway, staring at my visitor.

Oh.

My.

God.


	26. Emotions

"It's okay, Haz," Niall cooed as he stroked my back. I had been crying for the past hour and despite Niall's greatest attempts to cheer me up, I couldn't stop.

"Niall you don't have to stay with me," I said between sniffles. "I'll be fine. I just get really emotional sometimes..."

"Don't need to explain it to me, mate," Niall replied, sitting down next to me on my bed. "When my girlfriend Katie dumped me, I stayed in bed for a full week. It's a rough time. But you'll make it through."

I nodded slightly but didn't answer him. I was too busy thinking about how little time Louis and I had been boyfriends. And how much time I was going to lose with him. The last time we had kissed very well could have been the last time we would ever would kiss. And just like that, I started crying harder.

"Hey," Niall said, rubbing my shoulders. "It's okay. And besides, you didn't do anything wrong. You had no idea that was his ex. And he punched YOU in the face. He was acting irrationally— he must have thought there was some conspiracy against him or something. But I'm sure it was his emotions getting the best of him. He will come to his senses soon, Hazza. He knows deep down that you'd never hurt him." Niall smiled at me as he said it, but I could tell he felt a bit down too.

"I know. And that's why I — I just want to talk to him more than anything in the world," I choked. As I spoke, It felt like there was an elephant crushing my chest, breaking my organs and taking my air away.

"But I know that what he needs right now is time and space...." I continued as I grabbed for a tissue. "And I just hope he's okay, I hope he's not hurting himself."

Niall nodded. "'Me too mate," he said. "I mean I know it's none of my business but I've seen the scratches on his arms and I noticed he doesn't eat much. It's sad, really."

I nodded, nuzzling into Niall's arm and wiping my tears with the tissue. "Hey, what do you say I go check on him later?" Niall asked, petting my long curls. "We're friends. He probably won't be happy to see me — but he won't be as mad as he would be if it were you."

"Yes, that's a great idea," I said. My eyes lit up and I lifted myself up out of bed. "Thank you, Niall. I feel better already, knowing you're going to go check on him."

"Of course, mate," Niall said. He stood up with me and slapped a hand on my back. "Now come on, let's go get some lunch. No more tears, Haz."

I nodded and patted my stomach, which was growling loudly. "Sure, Niall. I'll come eat. Sandwiches sound good?"

"Perfect," Niall replied. And with that we ran out the door and downstairs to get some grub.

Even though I still felt broken, I felt a tiny bit better. And for now, that was enough.


	27. Help

Lou POV

"Niall, what the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, confused as to why it was Niall and not Zayn standing before me.

Then I realized that Zayn had actually never answered my text — or if he had, I hadn't seen it. Ignoring Niall, I grabbed my phone and checked my messages. There was a new one from Zayn. Fuck yesssss, I thought. He so wants me.

I opened the message. It read:

"No thanks, I'm good."

Fuck. Well I guess he doesn't want me after all. I started to suddenly feel extremely upset, the weight of my actions finally sinking in. I had just ruined multiple relationships... most likely, causing irreparable damage. And for what?

So I could further feed into my self hatred and confirm that people hate me. Wow, I have serious issues....

"Louis?!!" Niall shouted, waving his hand in front of my face. "I asked if you're okay. Like five times. Clearly if you can't answer, you're not."

I looked up at Niall. He was wearing grey skinny jeans and a blue T-shirt. Not bad style for a straight guy. But wait, back to the conversation. What were we talking about again? Oh yeah, me being okay. Haha. Jokes.

"Yeah," I said. "I didn't answer cause I was looking at my phone, Niall. Don't be rude." I slurred my speech a bit and that's when I knew he was going to give me a tough time.

"Have you been drinking?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow. Perfect, just as I had predicted it.

I took another swig from my vodka bottle, which was conveniently sitting on my dresser. "What, no," I said, laughing. "It's water just in disguise."

Niall grumbled And muttered something under his breath. "Okay," he said calmly. "How much have you had? How do you feel?"

"Better than I did before," I said. "You know I punched Harry and stuff? Yeah. But I'm also a bit sad. Because Harry hates me. And so does my booty call who I just called for backup... you know to feel something again... after I puked..."

Niall looked at me with sad eyes and took the bottle from my hand. I didn't resist. I didn't want anymore anyways. My stomach was starting to hurt and I was planning to go throw up most of it.

"Throw up? Was that before or after drinking?" Niall asked.

"Umm, ya know. I just did it before because I was sad. And there was some blood, but.... yeah. It's all good. Then I drank a bunch and fell asleep. Now I'm up," I said with a smile. When I said the word 'up' I jumped up on my tippy toes and did a little dance.

Niall shook his head. "Okay, and how much have you had to drink?"

I pointed to the bottle, which was 3/4 empty. "Twas full before."

Niall shook his head. "Can I come in?" He asked. I nodded lazily and watched as he walked inside and closed the door.

"You look blurry," I said, stumbling a bit. Niall caught me and helped me to the bed.

"And You have alcohol poisoning," he replied, shortly.

"Wh-whattt?" I stuttered.

But Niall didn't answer. He was talking to someone on the phone. "Miranda Hall, room 307. We have a student with alcohol poisoning," he said. "I'm gonna stay with him. Okay."

Niall hung up and returned his attention to me. But I don't remember what he was saying to me because pretty soon I couldn't hear or see.

I blacked out.

Author's note: So The Plot is speeding up and the chapters are gonna get faster. Yay to Niall for being the best friend and roommate ever and checking in on Lou. It could have gone so differently if he hadn't. How do y'all feel about Zayn's rejection? I thought Long and hard about whether or not he should come over and decided against it. So much is going on right now that I didn't want to add cheating to the equation. And Lou isn't in the position to even consent right now, so I think it's for the best.

Thanks everyone who is reading and commenting! I did not expect the story to go on for this long but you really encouraged and supported me and I'm trying to put in as much detail and give as complete a story as I can!


	28. Hope

Niall And I were sitting in the waiting room of the hospital. The doctors said they had pumped Louis' stomach and he was gonna be fine. We just had to wait a bit until he woke up because he was resting now.

I felt so guilty for what happened. Even though I knew logically it wasn't my fault, I felt a bit responsible for not handling the situation better. Maybe there was something I could have done or said differently... But Niall told me not to think like that. "It is what it is," he kept on saying.

Throughout the afternoon, I couldn't stop thanking Niall for what he did to save Lou. It hurt my heart to think about what would have happened if Niall hadn't been there. I pictured Louis' cold, lifeless body on the ground, covered in vomit, and felt like sobbing uncontrollably.

Stop thinking that way, Styles. He's okay now. He's gonna be okay.

But even though Louis was physically okay now, we all knew that something has to be done about his mental health. The doctors found some cuts on his thigh and serious signs of repeated self induced vomiting. They said he might need to go back to rehab. And I knew Louis would throw a bloody fit before he let that happen, but I wanted what was best for him. I wanted him to get better again.

"You Can go see him now," a nurse said to me a few minutes later. Niall, who had dozed off, was completely startled. "Huh, what?" he mumbled.

The nurse rolled her eyes. "Follow me," she said, walking down the hallway. "Niall, he's up now. We can go see him," I explained. Niall nodded and hopped up to follow the nurse alongside me.

When we opened the door, I felt my stomach sink. Louis looked so small and pale in the hospital bed. The seriousness of his situation suddenly hit me... he could die if he didn't get help.

"Hey, Lou," Niall said quietly, walking over to his bed. I stayed in the back of the room, not wanting to upset him. "How are you feeling?" Niall asked.

Louis' bright blue eyes looked duller than ever and his voice came out raspy when he answered. "I feel better," he said. "Throat hurts a bit. But thanks, Niall. For helping me out. I feel like a god damn fresher sitting here with my stomach pumped. Sorry for the trouble, mate."

"No," Niall said, shaking his head fervently. "You have nothing to apologize for. It's alright. I'm just glad you're okay."

Louis' eyes flicked away from Niall and over to me. I was fidgeting with my pockets, not sure what to do.

"What is he doing here?" Louis asked, frowning.

"Louis, Harry wanted to come and make sure you were okay. He's worried about you," Niall explained. I nodded eagerly.

"If you want him to leave, he will. But he wanted to check in on you. And he has something to tell you," Niall continued, motioning for me to come closer to Louis.

Louis closed his eyes and cleared his throat a bit. "Fine, but make it quick," he said. "I don't have all day."

Surprised that he was going to let me talk, I jogged over to the side of his bed. I didn't expect to get this far with Louis— I thought for sure he would tell me to leave, so I didn't have anything prepared or say. I guess I would just have to wing it...

"Louis, I wanted to start off by apologizing," I said quietly. "Instead of trying to defend myself, I should have been more receptive to your needs first. I should have listened to how you felt and figured out how to help you first. And I'm sorry for not doing that." Niall raised an eyebrow. He definitely thought Louis was the one who owed me an apology — after all, he had split my lip open and cursed at me.

But I didn't care. I loved Louis and my apology was genuine. I should have been aware that he was panicking and addressed that first. Maybe if I had, he wouldn't be in the hospital right now.

Louis nodded in response to my apology, his small head bobbing up and down on the pillow. "And Lou," I continued. "I know you said it's over. And I know you need time and space right now. But I want you to know I'm willing to wait as long as it takes for you. Because I love you and I've never met anyone as passionate and loving and brilliant as you."

Louis opened his eyes a bit and looked up at me. He reached his hand out and put his fingers on my swollen lip. "Did- did I do that?" He asked.

"Yeah. You sure did, mate," Niall answered. I glared at Niall.

"Harry, I'm sorry for punching you. And for what I said," Louis said, choking back tears and removing his hand from my face. "I just — I really need help."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes and nodded. "We will get you help, Lou. You're going to get all the help you need, okay?" I said. "Can I hold your hand?"

Louis nodded. "I'll do you one better," he said. "Come give me a hug, fresher."

I reached over and hugged Louis gently, careful not to put too much pressure on him. His body was warm and muscular, and I melted into the hug, craving every inch of him.

Louis must have noticed Niall lurking in the corner because a few seconds later, he waved him over too. "Group hug, mates," he said, laughing.

Niall walked to the other side of the bed and hugged Louis from the other side, creating a sort of triangle of people. When we pulled away, Louis looked up at me with sad eyes.

"I never meant to hurt you, Harry. I overreacted," he said softly. Then, he whispered something so quietly it was nearly inaudible. "I love you."


	29. Moving Forward

After spending the night in the hospital, I woke up to a doctor standing over me. "Um, hey," I said quietly. "Can I go home now?"

The doctor, a tall older man with thin white hair and a mustache, shook his head and tapped on his clipboard. "No, not yet. I'm Dr. Andrews. I'm a psychiatrist. I'm here to evaluate you," he said, pulling up a chair next to my bed.

"Okay, but the thing is I feel fine now. So I think I can leave. There's no need for an evaluation," I explained, sitting upright in my bed. 

"Mr. Tomlinson. Was your binge drinking yesterday a suicide attempt?" he asked as he furrowed his thick eyebrows together. Wow, I thought. This guy doesn't hold back. 

"Um, that's a bit blunt. But no, not at all," I said, rubbing my wrist where the IV was located. "I was going through a rough situation with my boyfriend-- and my ex. I was just upset, that's all." I watched as he wrote something on his clipboard. 

"Louis, I was made aware that they found self-harm marks on your legs. And that there's evidence you've been purging. Does that sound correct?" the doctor said, clicking his pen. 

Oh, for fuck's sake, I thought. Get this guy off my back. 

"Yeah," I said, my voice rising. "Listen, I'm not going to sit here and lie to you. You can look up my files, which I'm sure you already have. I have a history of self harm. I was diagnosed with anorexia, depression, anxiety, and PTSD from a traumatic relationship. I also struggle with over-exercising and cutting. I went to rehab in the UK. Look it all up, it's there. I recovered almost entirely. I still take my meds and call my therapist once a week. Sometimes I have slip-ups. I'm not perfect, but it's part of life."

The doctor nodded, an amused smile spreading across his thin lips. "Yes, I know all that. The question is, why is the problem worsening right now?"

Jesus, I just wanted to fucking go home. "I've been under quite a bit of stress. My ex-- he accused me of rape and dumped me in a really homophobic manner. I saw him again, with my current boyfriend. He was tutoring him-- he's actually a tutor though. And my boyfriend had no idea it was my ex. But I overreacted. I got really upset and I drank a lot to cope. And I purged," I said, trying not to wince as I relived that awful situation. "But I assure you, as soon as I leave here, I'll up my therapy to twice a week and work harder at self-care. There's really nothing to discuss here. I can take care of myself."

I was trying so hard to suppress my temper. I knew from experience that it would only make things worse if I blew up at the doctors. But if I had my way, I would rip out my IV and jolt out of the hospital bed and throw that stupid doctor's clip board right in the bin (trash). But that wouldn't get me out of here -- if anything, it would get me admitted. 

"Is right now really a good time to be dating someone?" The doctor asked, skeptically. "You know, in the midst of your crises. It seems to be adding to the stress, doesn't it?"

I felt my hands shake as I tried desperately to control the rage bubbling up inside my chest. "No," I said slowly, my voice cracking a bit. "I think that's a personal matter that's not something for you to judge or discourage. Harry is very understanding and offers his support with these types of things. Now, if you'd excuse me, I really have to use the bathroom. I think I'll call the nurse now to undo this IV."

I rang the nurse button several times. The doctor nodded slowly, frowning as he got up from his seat. "We'll be in touch," he said on his way out. 

Thank Jesus, I thought to myself with a deep sigh of relief. Get that prick out of here. 

I was a lot of things, but I wasn't suicidal. I never had been--even after what transpired yesterday in the library. I haven't had those feelings in months. I might be fucking up constantly with not eating and cutting, but I sure as hell didn't want to die. Not when I had those big green eyes staring at me and those cute little curls to run my hands through....

As the nurse helped me to the bathroom -- I really didn't need any help, but she insisted on following me -- I thought about Harry and how awful I had been to him. I fucking punched him. That's like seriously, super duper fucked up. I shook my head and then pulled my pants down and started to pee. 

After using the bathroom, I walked over to the sink to wash my hands. The reflection looking back at me was horrendous. My eyes were bloodshot and my hair was greasy and plastered to my face. Dark stubble covered my chin dull, lifeless eyes stared back at me in the tiny mirror. I rubbed my thigh, gingerly, tracing over the marks I had made. Then I lifted my shirt, and inspected my stomach, which looked thinner than usual. What was I fucking doing to myself? 

As I walked out of the bathroom that afternoon, I swore to myself I would make some changes. If not for me, for Harry. And for Niall too. They cared so much about me, and I wasn't about to let my thoughts bring me back down. 

This time, I had to fight.


	30. Love

Harry's Point of View 

"Hey LouBear. Can I tell you something?" I asked, tickling Louis as we snuggled under my covers. It had been two weeks since his hospital trip and he was doing a lot better now--eating three meals a day, going to the gym only 3 times a week (for now) and staying away from the razor. He purged twice this week, but he told me about it and we worked through it together by having an extra snack later that day. To say I was proud of him and all of his hard work would be an understatement. 

"What, babe?" Louis asked, planting a kiss on my head as he responded to my question. 

I giggled, as the wet sensation of his kiss gave me goosebumps. "I'm really proud of you love, you're doing so much better," I whispered, caressing his sharp jawline with my fingers. 

"Thanks, Harry," he said quietly. "I really never could have done this without you. And I -- you know I'm not great with the sappy stuff...."

I laughed. "Oh, trust me. I know," I said, widening my eyes and snickering. 

"Very funny," he replied rolling his eyes. He jabbed me in the ribs and I let out a fake cry, sending us both into a fit of laughter. 

"But seriously, no one else would have stayed with me through this, after finding out about all my issues. But you did," he said, kissing my lips tenderly. "And I can't thank you enough for that."

"Of course," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him towards me. "And I would do it a thousand times over. I love you, Lou." 

"I love you, too," Louis replied as he smiled up at me. "You know it's fucking crazy how I love you after less than a fucking month -- but I do. I really do. I've never felt a love like this."

A tear streamed down my eye and I nodded in agreement. "Neither have I. I've never met anyone like you," I said, rubbing his back. 

"I sure hope not," Louis snorted. 

"Hey," I cooed, rubbing his shoulders. "No self-deprecation here."

Louis shook his head and laughed. "No, I just mean that I'm unique is all. I'm a god damn trophy."

I smiled, hoping he really meant that. "You truly are," I said petting his hair softly. 

"Okay, enough sappy feelings talk," Lou growled into my ear. I raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised at how quickly the mood had changed. As Louis pressed against my chest, I started to feel hard. 

"Wanna fuck?" I asked, shooting him a snarky smile. Louis nodded energetically. "When do I fucking not want to fuck you, Styles?" he breathed heavily. 

"Oh, no, no, no," I said, rolling over and straddling Louis. "Today, I'm going to top."

Louis looked at me, quizzically, his blue eyes twinkling under the harsh light of his lamp. I smiled at how happy Louis looked--truly happy, not just pretending to be happy. 

"Okay, babe," he said in a husky voice. "Do your bloody worst." 

And with that, I started removing my clothes, ready to give him the fucking of a lifte time.


	31. Making Amends

Zayn's Point of View

I was sitting in the cafeteria eating when I felt someone approach me from behind. At first I thought it was my girlfriend, Alexa, because she often tries to sneak up on me and surprise me. But Alexa was in class right now and the hand felt too rough and masculine to be hers. 

As I turned around to see who it was, I locked eyes with Louis, and instantly jumped backward in my seat, almost spilling my soda all over myself. "Louis--" I choked out, completely surprised. 

"Hey," he said, snickering a bit at my ridiculous reaction. 

"What do you want?" I asked shortly, returning my attention to my food. Louis took a seat next to me at the table -- without asking -- and put a hand on my shoulder. 

"Listen, Zayn. I know we've had our differences," he said, taking a french fry off my plate and popping it into his mouth. "And I truly apologize for texting you the other weekend out of the blue -- after I had said that I wasn't interested in you. That was messed up and I'm sorry, mate. I was drunk, but there's no excuse." 

His soft voice seemed to vibrate in and out of my ears and I held the table to steady myself as I looked into his bright blue eyes. "Yeah, it was pretty rude," I said quietly. "But it's alright. We can just move past that. I should get going now..." 

I got up to leave, but Louis barred my path with his muscular arm. Damn, he was strong. "You lift?" I asked, smirking. Louis nodded. "I do actually," he said, flashing me a toothy grin and flexing his bicep. 

"But, listen. Don't leave. I have a proposal," he said excitedly. "So, the final project is coming up for our class. And we have to do groups of four..."

"I already know where you're going with this, Lou. But no. I can't work with you again," I said, frowning at him as intensely as I could. I guess my face appeared less intimidating than I thought it did, though, because Louis immediately burst out laughing. 

"Don't make that pouty face at me, Zaynie. I wasn't done yet," he said with a giggle. His bright eyes were gleaming and a wisp of his tousled hair began to fall out of place. 

"Alex and Greg asked me to be in their group. We need one more person," Louis said, inching closer to me. "And you know our voices sound good together.... and the other guys have much lower voices, so they would complement us...."

I raised an eyebrow. It did sound like a good plan. And to be quite honest, I hadn't even started looking around for a group. I knew very few people in the class and had a bad feeling that many people had already partnered up.

"Okay," I said interjecting. I grabbed a couple of stray fries and ate them quickly before grabbing my tray to throw out. Louis followed after me as I walked to the garbage, probably prepared to push me again if I tried to leave. Damn, he was feisty. 

"Okay? Really?" Louis said excitedly, tossing his arms around me. A few seconds later, he removed them, his face flushing red. "Oh, Zayn, I'm sorry. I forgot about your... situation. But trust me, we will only ever rehearse with Alex and Greg. So nothing will ever get intimate..." 

"Alright," I said, talking over him as he said the word intimate. The last thing I wanted someone in the cafeteria to overhear was how I had gotten intimate with Louis Tomlinson... the most beautiful fucking angel I've ever seen... I sighed internally at my conflicted mind. 

"It sounds good, Lou. Really," I replied, walking back to the table to grab my backpack. "And it's okay to hug me. I'm not obsessed with you or something. Just attracted, but I know you have Harry and I won't do anything to jeopardize that. I'm dating someone as well."

I tried to appear indifferent, but deep down, it hurt a little to say Harry's name. I had seen the two together around campus a few times. Harry was gorgeous, with his brown curls, big green eyes and sexy long legs. And he looked at Louis like he had just won the fucking lotto. They were happy together, and adorable. I suppose Louis was better off....

"Well I appreciate that," Louis said, giving me a soft pat on the back. "What do you say we try and be friends, yeah?" he asked. 

I rolled my eyes at him, fixing my hair in the reflection of the window. "Maybe acquaintances," I said coolly. "I don't associate much with the pricks from Donny." 

"Oh fuck off," Louis said, grabbing my backpack off my back and causing me to nearly fall as I tried to walk away. "Doncaster is for the elites. Maybe one day you'll learn." 

And with that, he walked away.

All I could think was, damn, his bum looked fantastic in those jeans.


	32. Double Edged Sword

Liam's Point of View 

Trigger warnings: drug abuse/addiction, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts

I thought about texting him a million times. I typed out thousands of different messages, drafted hundreds of emails. I tried to call so many times. 

But I could never bring myself to go through with it. 

In a lot of ways, I felt like Louis had ruined me. When we first got together, it was just supposed to be temporary, casual. I was just discovering my sexuality and I was nowhere near out of the closet. I wasn't supposed to fall for him -- but I did. Head over fucking heels. 

I have never connected with a person the way I did with Louis. I've never had that kind of chemistry-- you know the kind, physical and emotional. Romantic, but sexual. The kind of feeling you get inside when you have a deep, burning desire to fuck someone, but you also want to be with them all the time and hear every detail of their day and make sure they're happy. 

That's how Louis made me feel. 

But it was my wonderful idea to make the whole thing a god damn secret. Because I couldn't come to terms with being gay. Because I thought my teammates wouldn't accept me. Because of me, and my selfish reasons and insecurities and close mindedness. 

So of course, we tried to hide it. Of course, we kept our relationship behind closed doors and out of sight. But eventually, even that wasn't enough. We were caught redhanded. 

What I should have done in that situation was fess up, come to terms with things. Admit to myself -- and to the others -- that I was gay. But I didn't do that. 

Oh, of course I didn't do that. Instead, I did the most disgusting thing ever imaginable. I accused Louis of RAPING ME.

That's right, fucking raping me. Honestly, it was the most pathetic, lowly thing I've ever done in my life. I accused the love of my life -- the person I made love to every night, the person I cared about more than anyone or anything -- of raping me. 

I still felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it. 

I didn't just feel disgusted. I felt guilty. I felt remorseful. I felt heartbroken. I had just pushed away the only person I had ever gotten close to. Not only did I push him away--I broke him. I fucking broke him down to the point that just a few weeks later, he was a fucking skeleton walking around campus with gash marks all over his body and an empty space where his heart should be. 

Whenever I saw Louis around, which was often, I thought to myself: You did that Payne. You fucking did that. He's dying. He's literally dying and you're the one who's killing him. 

And I know -- I know I should have apologized. I know I still can apologize. But an apology is only a small fraction of what I owe to Louis. Through just one simple sentence, I had obliterated his self-esteem, gave him lifelong trust issues, and pretty much destroyed whatever bit of happiness the kid had left. And that was something that was truly unforgivable. 

Louis had never been happy as a clam -- even when we first started seeing each other. He had always been a little pessimistic. He had his share of body issues and insecurities. But now, it was is if I had taken the light from his eyes. The color from his cheeks. The soul from his body. I was a fucking monster, and I knew it. And I wanted to kill myself for it. 

Every day, I wished I could just trade places with Louis. I wished I could be the one suffering, the one going through all the pain. Because I god damn deserved it. 

But of course I couldn't do that. So I trudged along, using football and studying to keep me busy during the day. But at night, when nobody else was around, my heart ached. And I sobbed and sobbed until I physically couldn't produce anymore tears. 

After a while, even crying wasn't enough of a release for me, so I turned to pills to help cope. They drug tested athletes at my uni, but my teammates and I had ways of getting around it, swapping urine samples with clean athletes and using drugs that didn't show up in tests. 

I quickly developed an addiction, shoveling down pills every night and hoping I wouldn't wake up in the morning. Why should I, anyways, after what I've done? I was worthless. 

When I saw Louis that day in the cafeteria though, everything changed. He wasn't broken, he wan't damaged anymore-- or least not as much. He would probably be mentally scarred forever, but at least he was doing better physically. Lou had color in his cheeks again, muscles on his arms, a twinkle in his eyes. And by the looks of it, it was all thanks to that curly-headed kid he was eating with. 

In the cafeteria, Louis ran out seconds after spotting me. I wasn't planning on talking to him -- especially not in front of the team. But damn, did he run. That's the kind of effect you have on him, now, I said to myself. He used to love you, and now he can barely look at your lowly, homophobic self. 

As I sat there next to my teammates, pretending to eat my burger, I couldn't stop staring at the curly-haired kid. I saw the way Louis had stared at him, with that flirty look in his eyes -- the some look he always used to give me before we kissed or got physical. 

I had never seen the kid before, so I assumed he was a fresher. I asked one of the first years on my team if they knew who he was. They said he was Harry Styles, a music major. Lived in Miranda Hall. That's all I really needed to know. 

A few days later, I spoke with my friend Kelly who was an Intro to music TA. I asked if she knew a kid named Harry and she said she had him in her tutoring group which met on Saturdays. I asked if she could do me a huge favor and let me teach part of the section -- even though I wasn't a TA. 

She found my request super odd, but after I bribed her with free drinks, she agreed to it. To justify why I was doing this, I told her I knew Styles and wanted to play a prank on an old friend. Harry and I both had British accents -- so she believed it. Dumb, Americans. 

The plan was to talk to Styles after the session and tell him to take care of Louis. To not make the same mistakes I had made. To let him know he's special. To show him that I had been wrong, all wrong. And most importantly, to tell him that I was deeply, incredibly sorry. I couldn't face Louis myself. I just couldn't. But maybe Harry could help deliver the message. 

It almost worked -- almost, but it didn't. 

My plan was going swimmingly when out of the blue, Louis fucking showed up in the library and saw me. I saw Harry run over to him, and I watched as Louis yelled furiously and punched Harry in the fucking face. 

Once again, I had fucking ruined everything -- even my attempt to god damn apologize had created more pain and despair for Louis than I could have ever imagined. Everything I did seemed to just hurt him more and more. I honestly wanted to disappear and never come back to this school again. 

I remember, in a daze, helping Harry up after he was punched -- and so desperately wanting to tell him my apology. Tell him everything really. But when I looked into those big green eyes, all I could think of was Louis looking into them as they fucked, as they told each other they loved each other. And I wanted to vomit. 

So I did the worst possible thing I could do. I trashed Louis. Hard. And then I got kneed in the dick.

That night, I went to bed and mixed my pills with alcohol, hoping it would either ease the pain or take my life. I didn't care which. 

Unfortunately, I woke up the next the morning -- completely fine. My roommate told me that the mixture was enough to kill a fucking horse-- so I either mixed it wrong or just got extremely lucky. 

Either way, I was given a second chance to live that day. And I wasn't going to let it go to waste.

I knew exactly what I had to do to atone my sins: Apologize to Louis. Face to face.


	33. Choking

Louis' Point of View

I was running. Fast and far. I don't know where I was, but it wasn't New York. It wasn't even the U.S. It had to be somewhere in England.

My legs were pumping as fast as they could, but I still wasn't going quickly enough. My heart beat faster and faster, and I felt like I couldn't breathe--like I couldn't think-- because I was being chased.

By Liam.

Every time I looked back, he seemed to be getting closer. First, he was a few meters away, then just a meter, then just a few centimeters. Finally, he reached out and grabbed me, sending an intense pain through my entire body. His hands were made of poison, and I quickly collapsed, falling onto the ground in writhing pain.

He stood over my deteriorating body and looked at me with his sinister brown eyes, throwing his head back in the air and cackling. Then, he took something out of his pocket. It looked like a knife-- no, it was switch blade. He walked towards me, grabbing my back roughly with his left hand and then piercing the skin.

"Noooooooooooooo!" I screamed. "No. No. No."

"Louis! Love, wake up. You're okay!" I opened my eyes to find Harry staring at me. He kissed my head and wrapped his arms tightly around me. "It's okay. Shhhh, it's okay, Lou."

"It was Liam," I sobbed into Harry's chiseled shoulder. "He was after me. It must have been a dream but...." I paused and realized that what had happened in the dream was fiction, but the whole concept of Liam chasing me -- that was real.

Just this afternoon, I received a text from an unknown number. I had deleted Liam's number a long time ago. But I had memorized it, just in case a moment like this ever happened. I remember I was sitting in class when I got the text. My stomach instantly began to form knots, and I told myself I would wait until class was over, but I was too anxious to just leave it sitting there. So I opened it.

The message read:

"Ready to apologize for all the pain I have caused you. I understand if you never want to see me again, but in the off change you want to hear my apology, meet me tomorrow in the cafe at 3pm. -Liam."

Immediately, I wish I hadn't. My hands started shaking and I nearly dropped my phone on the ground as I panicked. Suddenly, I felt myself gasping for breath. I could hardly move or even see...

"Lou," I heard Zayn say in a muffled voice. "Louis, you okay?"

Suddenly, I felt arms hoisting me up and I noticed the light got a bit brighter. I felt myself be lowered to the ground, my back against a wall.

"I think you're having a panic attack," Zayn said. "What should I do?"

"Call Harry," I choked, tears streaming down my cheeks. I fumbled around on my lap and felt my phone. "Here."

Zayn did as instructed and seconds later, Harry -- who was taking a class in the same building -- came running down the hall. I knew it was him because I heard him yelling the entire time: "Louis, it's me, Harry. I'm here now, love."

I felt Harry's gentle hands grab me from under my arms. "Shhh," Harry cooed. "Just try to relax for me. We're relaxing. We're relaxing, love. It's just you and me." He held me in his arms and rocked me back and forth, making slow, soothing sounds that imitated the ocean. He made the sounds over and over again, rubbing my back in a circular motion as he did so.

After a few minutes, my breathing began to steady and I opened my eyes. I saw Harry's face staring back at me. His lips were curved in a smile and his green eyes were crinkled at the edges. "There he is," Harry said. "Are you alright? You gave us all a scare."

I looked over Harry's shoulder and noticed Zayn standing awkwardly next to the classroom door. "Thank you, Zayn," I said smiling at him. "I'm really fucking embarrassed."

"No problem mate. Don't be embarrassed," Zayn said. "Just glad you're okay."

I returned my gaze to Harry. "Thanks, love," I said, kissing him on the cheek. "You can put me down now, I'm bloody fine, fresher."

"You are not bloody fine, Mister," Harry protested, slowly lowering me. "What happened?"

I took a deep breath and looked at the floor. "Liam texted me..."

Harry's face twisted into the most intense frown I have ever seen him make. His quickly grew a dark shade of red and clenched his hands into fists. I saw Zayn take a step back.

"I'm gonna go back inside," he said quickly. "I'll tell them you're okay."

I nodded and then looked at Harry. Without saying anything, I handed him my phone. "Okay, thank you babe," he said, opening the message. He read it quickly, his green eyes darting back and forth.

"Alright," he said, taking a deep breath. "Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna get you a new phone or have your number changed. And we're gonna get a restraining order against him. I'll take care of EVERYTHING. Don't worry for a second."

I felt myself starting to cry and I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just all of the emotions, but deep down I knew there was a tiny part of me that did want to meet up with Liam. That a small part of me did want to hear his apology. That maybe, deep down, I needed that apology.

Harry sensed my mixed feelings and rushed to my side, intertwining his fingers with mine. "Louis, you are so strong. You know you don't need that apology, right? It's all for him. To make him feel less guilty. I don't want you going anywhere near him -- ever. Do you understand?"

I snuggled my head into Harry's shoulder again. "Yes," I murmured. Harry instinctively rubbed my back, making the ocean sounds again.

"Okay, good. I love you, Lou," Harry said. And he kept telling me that for the next hour or so, just in case I forgot.

Now, a few hours later, as I lay in bed with Harry after my nightmare, he told me again -- about a dozen times in fact.

"I love you, Louis," he whispered. "I love you more than anything."

"I know, Hazza. I love you too," I said, climbing onto his chest and burying my head into the crook of his neck.

"We're gonna get through this Lou," Harry said firmly. "You and me. Both of us. We're a team, Louis. You never have to go through this alone, okay?"

I nodded, feeling better already as I pressed my body against Harry's warm torso.

"I know, Harry," I said, locking eyes with him. "We'll get through it if it's the fucking last thing I do. Because Liam Payne doesn't have control over me. Not any fucking more."

Authors note: One. More. Freaking. Chapter. And then we are done!!!! Oh my god... thanks so much for sticking with the story. It turned into a way longer one than I expected. The next chapter will be the last, and trust me you're gonna love it.

Karma is a bitch, and everyone will get what is coming to them.

I'll just take a minute to reflect on the characters here —

Niall: he's the only one I didn't do a perspective for. Sorry Ni! I think we get a great sense of what he's like though from his bromance with Harry. I guess I didn't do his POV because I use POV to reveal innermost feelings and Niall loves Harry and Louis, but only as friends, nothing more. We already see that all through his dialogue and actions. Yay for Niall! He's an amazing little potato.

Harry: oh my god, Harold. Such a brave, passionate, selfless character. He's brand new to college in a new country and doesn't know up from down, but he still finds the time and energy to devote his everything to loving Louis and making sure he's okay. Such a fucking sweetheart!!!! And he's so protective and loving and kind and ahhh... the best bro and roommate Niall could have. Hazza = amazing.

Zayn: we didn't always know how we felt about Zayn, especially at the beginning. He wasn't meant to be a huge character but began very important towards the end. He makes a mature move by deciding to be Louis' friend despite his lingering feelings — and Louis can use the extra support. We <3 u Zaynie

Liam: dear god. Liam in real life is An angel, but this version of him is the devil reincarnated. I did not mean for his offenses to be so extreme— and I wasn't even gonna include his POV, but I thought we needed to hear it. We need to see for ourselves what he's like. And it's not pretty. His only saving grace is that he at least feels bad for what he did, but his selfish thought patterns and feelings of possessiveness over Lou despite ruining his life pretty much overshadow all of that. Thumbs down x10000

Louis: little Lou! The star of the show. When I started out, I meant to have Harry and Lou on equal footing, but it quickly turned out to be more focused on Louis, and personally I love that. Louis is a complex character — he's been through so much but he still tries his fucking hardest to fight each day and overcome his demons. He doesn't always win, but that's what harry is there for. And watching this whole process of Louis overcoming his trauma learning that he's worthy of Harry's love is so heart warming... he really is a fighter and he's a representation of so many people who are going through silent battles in their heads each day. I love Louis' sass and his attitude... and I think it's great that he works out and uses that as a little boost for himself, though he's aware that it can become obsessive. The workout scenes were some of my favorite to write — especially with hazza freaking out and doing a practice workout. Overall we are so proud of Lou and his progess!!! :)


	34. Revenge

Harry's Point of View 

 

"Are you sure you're ready to do this?" Louis asked nervously, tugging at the sleeves of my shirt. We were standing outside of the café where Liam had requested to meet at, waiting in a small corridor next the entrance. We only had a few minutes left to ourselves. It was 2:56 and time was ticking.

Without looking at Louis, I nodded in response. My face was twisted into a fierce, serious frown and I stood upright, clenching my hands into fists. "I'm ready as I'll ever fucking be," I said in a low tone.

"You know you don't have to do this, Hazza," Louis told me for what felt like the thousandth time, stroking the back of my neck with his soft, small hands. 

I shook my head, and pulled Louis towards me, kissing him tenderly. "I know, but I have to," I said as I released him from my grip. "I'm doing this for you, love. I need to."

"Alright, well good luck, babe. Thank you so much," Louis said, extending his hand to pat me on the shoulder. Then, he took a step backwards, and I felt his eyes follow me as I walked past him and towards the center of the cafeteria where Liam was seated. 

Liam should absolutely never be within a 10 mile radius of Louis after what he had done to him. But me? I could fucking handle myself. And I was going to end this atrocity once and for all. Harry Styles style... No pun intended. 

Okay, maybe a little. 

On a more serious note, I quickly spotted Liam approaching from an entrance on the opposite side of the cafe. He was wearing a tight fitting v-neck Tshirt, dark blue skinny jeans, and black vans. A shiny wrist watch sparkled on his arm and his hair was slicked back in a perfect quaff. 

I felt my green eyes start to turn an ugly shade of red as I watched him saunter confidently across the room. He had certainly been trying to impress Louis by wearing his best attire -- during the other two times I had seen him, he was lazily dressed in sweats and sneakers. All I wanted to do was grab him by the collar of his fucking powder blue V-neck and smash his head into one of the windows. 

But I wasn't going to that. Because the Styles way isn't one of violence. I'm always civil -- well at least almost always. The crotch shot in the library wasn't something I had planned on doing...

As I stood on the opposite side of the cafe, I watched Liam from a far, pretending to get in line for coffee so he wouldn't spot me. He picked a table in the very back of the cafe, almost entirely secluded from everyone else. Of course he would, I thought. He wants to fucking corner him and destroy him. 

I grimaced and began to wonder if I could really go through with is -- if I could really control my anger, my raging, burning anger towards this pathetic prick of a human who had hurt Louis. I shook my head, hoping it might help clear it, and then walked slowly over to the table, tugging my hood over my head to mask my long curls. 

Liam, however, wasn't paying attention. I was standing directly in front of him, but he was consumed with something on his phone, ignoring his surroundings entirely. 

"Ahem," I cleared my throat loudly. Liam's eyes shot upwards towards me and he jumped backwards in his chair, nearly toppling the table over. 

"Harry," he said in a surprised tone. He blinked a few times and looked up at me -- almost as if to make sure I was real. 

"Liam," I said, coldly, grabbing the chair across from him and taking a seat. The chair screeched across the linoleum floor and I thought of Louis screaming in pain every night. Harry, I told myself, smoothing my hands against my jeans. Keep it together. 

"Everything alright, mate?" he said nervously. "How did the exam go?"

I laughed at him, removing my hood and twirling a curl with my fingers. "That's hilarious," I said with a smirk. "Cut the shit Payne. I spoke to the other TA, she told me your story. You're not even a TA -- you're a fucking fraud."

Liam's face remained expressionless and he shrugged. "So that's why you came here? To tell me I'm a fraud?" he asked, his brown eyes burning into me. 

I readjusted myself in my seat, folding my legs beneath the table, and shook my head. 

"No, absolutely not," I spat. "Because you already know that, don't you?" Liam didn't respond. He didn't have to. 

"No, no, no. That's not why I'm here. I'm here to fucking tell you what you missed out on. To tell you what the fuck you did -- and what a fucking measly, after-the-fact, too-little-too-late shit show attempt of an apology can never and will never solve," I said, leaning forward to look Liam in the eyes. 

"I didn't come here to beat you up or talk trash about you or destroy your ego. You know what you are, Payne. I'm sure of that," I said, furrowing my eyebrows together. My voice was raspy and low, and my eyes felt like daggers. Liam flinched in his chair uneasily and looked at the floor. 

"I'm here to talk about Louis. The most creative, caring, lively, genuine person you'll ever have the privilege of laying your filthy eyes on," I continued, my voice beginning to quiver as I thought of my beautiful boyfriend. "I'm sure you know what happened to Louis. The weight loss, the cutting, the rehab. You've seen the evidence, you've heard the stories. And I'm sure you think it's all your fault and that you caused that. Don't you?"

Liam began to get up from the chair, but in one swift motion, I jumped up and moved behind him. Grabbing his right arm, I leaned forward and pinned it to the table. 

"No Payne," I whispered into his ear. "You don't get to leave. You have to sit here and hear this. How about that?" 

Liam strained against my grip, but I was relentless. I squeezed his arm harder and moved closer to his ear. 

"Easy," I growled. "Don't hurt yourself there. Now, where was I? Right. He was in bad shape -- and that was primarily thanks to you. But you know what? He came back this semester stronger than he's ever been. He came back RECOVERED. And he continues to recover, and he will continue to fucking recover. From the damage you did, Payne!" I felt my saliva spraying onto Liam's face as I shouted this words, forcing them into his unwilling ears. 

"And that recovery? That was 100% his hard work. His drive. His fucking will to get better. And to move on with his life and never look back. Because you," I growled. "You are the worst thing that could ever happen to him. The worst thing that could ever happen to anyone, really." 

I released Liam's arm, but stood planted behind him in case he tried to dodge me a second time. Liam put his hands in his lap and tried to steady his shaking arm. A tear streamed down each of his cheeks, and he opened his mouth, perhaps to cry, but nothing came out. 

"A few weeks ago, I moved here and I met Louis and I realized what an absolute gem he was. What a fucking trophy he was. What you missed out on -- what you ruined. And guess what I did? Guess Payne, fucking guess?" At this point I had moved to Liam's side and gripped his jaw, slowly moving his head towards me he had no choice but to look into my eyes. 

Again, I was met with silence. But I kept going. 

"I loved him. I showed him the god damn love he deserved. I knew he was sad, I knew he was damaged from something. And I waited and helped him and showed him it was okay to trust again," I continued. My cheeks felt hot and I began to wonder if maybe I would soon be the one crying.

"And he trusted me. He told me everything. He spilled his deepest darkest god damn corners of his heart to me. And I loved him for it... I loved every inch of his body, every breath he took. I was there when he had run ten god damn miles and passed out after seeing your bloody face. I was there when he fucking gave himself alcohol poisoning after he saw you in the library. I was fucking there," I said. 

With every word, I felt my heart beating faster and my breathing becoming quicker. Liam was now hunched over in his chair, covering his red blotchy face, snot dripping into every crevice. 

But I was still not going to stop. 

"I was there," I croaked, my voice breaking. "And I will always be there. Fucking always. Because I love Louis. And Louis loves me. And he knows I would never ever pull the gruesome, ungodly shit you pulled on him. He knows I am here to protect him, here to care for him. But you? You'll never have that. You wanted to apologize? After all this shit, after all of your horrid, horrid actions? What the fuck are your god damn words going to do to make up for it? What? Fucking tell me what?"

I was fuming now. I grabbed Liam by the collar of his shirt and locked eyes with him. He stared back at me, his red face growing pale, and shook his head weakly. 

"Nothing," Liam whispered softly. "Fucking nothing. I can't undo what I've done. I -- I was selfish for even asking him here. It was... was for me..."

He trailed off, breaking eye contact and letting his arms go limp by his sides. I released his shirt from my tight grip and nodded, walking in a small circle next to him. 

"Never. I mean fucking never. Ever go near him again," I said coolly. "You understand me?" 

Liam nodded energetically and stood up from his chair, instantly flinching as I took a step towards him. "I-- I won't ever, I swear," he croaked as he put his hands in front of his face.

I smiled at him and shook my head. "I'm not going to hurt you," I said, cackling to myself. "No, no, no. Physical pain is nothing compared to mental pain. And I'm sure after this conversation you have a lot to think about. And great -- you won't ever go near him. It would be lovely if I could take your word for it. But I can't. So good thing my roommate and I know exactly who you are and where you live and where to find you if you ever so much as enter the same god damn room as Louis." 

Liam nodded. "Got it, got it," he said, repeating the phrase over and over again like a parrot. 

"Great. And Payne -- one more thing before you leave..." I said, patting him on the back like an old friend. 

"You owe me the apology for having to come here and fucking explain this shit to you," I said, pressing my pointer finger into his chest. "Go on, then."

Liam looked at me as if he were going to vomit, his face ghost white and his torso trembling. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said quietly. He looked at me briefly before shifting his gaze to the floor.

"Wonderful," I replied with a wide grin. "Then there's nothing left to discuss."

Upon hearing that, Liam instantly bolted out of the cafe, running as fast as he could to the nearest exit. I watched out the window as he ran out of the campus area and down the street.

Great, I thought to myself. I hope he never fucking comes back.


	35. Epilogue

Louis' POV

"Hey, Love," I said softly. Harry and I were sitting on the park bench we had sat on after our first date. Over the past six months, it had quickly become our favorite spot to go to together on campus. Sometimes we went there to have deep conversations, looking into each others' eyes and sharing our deepest secrets. Other times, we simply went to think and breathe in each other's presence under the silent night sky. Right now was one of those times. 

I watched Harry's green eyes gleam in the light of the street lamps as he stared towards the Washington Square Arch. His eyes were directed at the arch, but I could tell by the absentminded look on his face that his mind was in a totally different place. 

"What are you thinking about?" I whispered, tracing circles on his strong hands. Harry's eyes abruptly shifted from the arch and connected with mine. "You, Lou," he said as he pushed a stray curl out of his eyes. 

Harry had recently gotten into the habit of wearing beanies and it was entirely irresistible to me, especially when one of his little curls slipped out by mistake. "Me?" I asked, my cheeks turning a lusty shade of pink. "Oh, Mr. Styles," I whispered. "So dirty."

Harry cracked a smile, his dimples deepening as he looked at me. "Not about doing it with you," he laughed. "But speaking of the topic, you were excellent last night, Lou."

I snickered and pretended to slap him the face, pulling my hand away a few centimeters before making contact with his soft cheek. "No, but seriously, what were you thinking of?" I asked, sliding a leg onto his lap. 

Harry stroked my back and kissed my head tenderly. "How proud of you I am," he said, his voice deepening a bit. "These past six months have been incredible. You've been so strong, Lou. When I first met you, do you remember how dark a place you were in? I didn't think you'd ever let me in. But you opened up, you told me everything, and every single since day you've been working so hard to get better."

I smiled. He was right. I had made a lot of progress in the past six months. Yesterday actually marked the day that I was five months sober from self-harming and three months purge-free. Harry and I had celebrated by going to dinner last night -- at the same Italian restaurant we had gone to for our first date. The only difference was that I finished my whole plate this time. And instead of feeling guilty about it, I felt proud. 

That wasn't the only good thing going on in my life. My music group from the fall semester -- Zayn, Alex, Greg and I -- had actually done so well in the course that the professor suggested we record a professional album. And while we are still nowhere near famous, we have gotten a bunch of gigs around campus, which was awesome in helping me distract myself from all of the Liam drama. 

Speaking of Liam... He never spoke to me again -- or anyone actually -- after he met Harry in the cafe that day. A few days later, he transferred out and no one ever heard from him again, although there are rumors from guys on the football team that he went to the University of Edinburgh. 

Around the same time as Liam left, Harry and Niall started their own YouTube channel, where they post original music and duets and they've been taking off as well. The band and I are thinking of collaborating with them at our next gig, as long as we can learn the music in time. 

I thought of all these things, and about how much I had grown this semester as I looked up at Harry. "Thank you, Hazza," I said softly, my lips quivering with emotion. "I'm proud too. And I'm proud of you too. And Niall. I can't thank you lads enough."

Harry pulled me tightly into a bear hug, nearly suffocating me with muscular arms. We had been going to the gym together a few times a week for the past few months -- and now the fucker was lifting more than me. 

"Thank you, Louis," he said. His big green eyes widened and he removed the beanie to reveal a mop of curls. "You changed my life in so many ways. I love you."

"I love you too," I said, tracing his sharp jawline with my finger. "Always." 

 

Author's note: 

So I can't believe it's over. What did you guys think????? So many emotions. I wrote this pretty quickly so now I feel lost without a story to work on. Would you guys want a continuation of this or something entirely new?

Also, are there any questions that still remain after reading this? I can try my best to answer them :D 

Thanks for read


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